


It's Just Like Striking Matches

by LPSunnyBunny, mulbeary (cl0wnf11sh)



Series: Striking Matches [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Culturally-accepted slavery, M/M, Master/Pet, Mind Break, Multiple Orgasms, POV Alternating, RP-Style Formatting, Spanking, Underaged Eridan, trolls as pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 48,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24810541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPSunnyBunny/pseuds/LPSunnyBunny, https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl0wnf11sh/pseuds/mulbeary
Summary: Dirk's been thinking about getting a troll pet for a while, but since he wants a challenge... he wants ahighblood. Notorious for being difficult to train and break in, he orders a violet- and ends up with Eridan.
Relationships: Auto-Responder | Lil Hal & Dirk Strider, Auto-Responder | Lil Hal & Eridan Ampora, Eridan Ampora/Dirk Strider
Series: Striking Matches [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989109
Comments: 3
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

Dirk’s been considering this for a while. He’s been… bored, lately, and looking for something to do- and more than a little bit sexually frustrated.

And yes, despite what Hal has needled him about, Dirk has thought this through. He has. Trolls are a lot of work, as pets, and they have long lifespans. They’re _commitments_. You can’t get a troll and then toss them out when you’re finished with them- the charges are _astronomical_ for abandoning a troll, including and up to a prison sentence the length of their average lifespan. A troll is a companion, a pet, and a servant all in one.

And that’s why Dirk doesn’t immediately indulge his urge to get one. He reads all the articles that Hal shoves at him with snide, condescending messages about troll lifespans and horror stories of trolls turning on their families and killing them and developmental patterns of trolls and basic troll needs and keeping them trained.

And _yes_ , Dirk actually prepares beforehand. He knows what kind of troll he wants- he wants one with spirit, that’ll need a firm hand- but once broken in, will be pretty and sweet and occasionally bratty.

Dirk wants a highblood. He wants a _violet_.

Trolls, by nature, have been bred to be more naturally submissive. They imprint on a human and will serve them loyally until that bond is broken. That’s why trolls are such good pets- they’re obedient and _loyal_. But that imprinting gets weaker as you move up the colors. Indigos is the last color where it stops becoming an immediate loyalty (albeit their bonds are weak and you have to gain their trust). Purples are the most dangerous color and you need a license to have one- because not only are they the most violent- their imprinting is so weak it might as well not exist. Having a seadweller troll is a rarity. Oh, people fight over the fuschias, they’re a rare status symbol if you can get a _fuschia_ troll, but violets-

Violets don’t imprint on humans. No, for having a violet, you have to _force_ them into submission. They fight and claw and have to be broken in- but once they break, they break _beautifully_ and can be moulded into whatever you want them to be.

Dirk wants that. He’s spent a lot of time carefully thinking about what kind of companion he wants- and he knows. He wants a loyal pet that will curl with him at night and lounge with him on the couch and squirm and fuss when Dirk wants it too but also mewl sweetly when Dirk wants that.

Sure, he could get an olive. They’re usually the feistiest. But there’s no _challenge_ in that.

So finally, after weeks of Hal relentlessly harassing him about his decision, Dirk snaps at him, Hal sulks for a day, Dirk reassures his poor AI’s feels, Hal admits that he’s over-reacting, and Dirk starts looking at trolls for sale.

There aren’t many highbloods above indigo, honestly. Purples are so volatile that if they’re not sold before they pupate, they’re usually culled. Violets are niche, so Dirk has to seek out breeders who specifically list violets among their categories.

Not too young, of course, and not too old, or it’ll be impossible to train- but finally, Dirk finds him.

_ Eridan, 16. Temperament: bratty. Needs a strong owner with a firm hand. Prone to biting. Semi-broken. _

Semi-broken means he’s not feral. He won’t try to kill Dirk in his sleep.

Probably.

That’s part of the fun though, isn’t it?

Dirk buys him.

Two weeks later, the delivery is made, a padded express shipping crate with his new pet inside. Sedated, of course.

Dirk opens the crate up and looks down at his unconscious pet, reaching in and lifting him up, carrying him over to his couch, lying him down. He’s dressed in simple, loose clothing, just to cover his body. His wrists and ankles are chained together as a precaution, but Dirk hunts down those keys and releases him.

He’s even prettier in person. His features are delicate and high, nose gently sloped and fins relaxed. His horns- yeah, they’re sharp and Eridan could probably gore him with them, but Dirk’s not going to go the ‘grind the horns down’ route. There were plenty of articles in the ones that Hal threw at him about the damage it does to trolls- throws their balance off, makes it so they lose their sense of orientation and direction, sometimes for good. Yeah. Not about to do that.

Once they’re released from the crate, sedation ends in ten to thirty minutes, depending on color. Dirk picks up the collar for Eridan, spins it on his finger idly, and waits.

As much as Eridan had loathed the kennel where they'd been keeping him, loathed the handlers that talked to him like he was some stupid animal, he hadn't exactly been eager to be adopted. He'd always told himself that he'd fight his way out eventually and return to the wilderness, like the noble, independant creature he's clearly supposed to be (nevermind the fact that he doesn't have the first idea about how to survive outside of a place like this.) He'd known what it meant, when one of the handlers let themselves into his room with a needle in hand, but despite all his growling and fin-flaring he hadn't even managed to get a scratch or a bite in before they'd stuck him and he'd found the world fading fast.

When the sedative begins to wear off, about nine minutes after he unlocks the cuffs, the first things to wake up are his fins. They perk up, shivering, before flaring out as he stretches with a garbled noise of vague discomfort. For a moment all he can think is that he's feeling oddly sluggish, and that his bed feels different then it normally does, before things slot together and his eyes shoot open.

His limbs still feel almost too heavy to move, but his eyes are sharp and yellow as an eagle's, his pupils tiny and slitlike in irises of dull amethyst. There is.. a human. A human, looking at him, and holding a _collar_. Those eyes are still slightly glazed, but they still carry the calculating intelligence of a predator.

That is, until he tries to make a lunge for him, teeth bared, and promptly flops onto his side as his head starts spinning wildly and his stomach flops in his abdomen, hissing and squirming in discomfort. The sedative hasn't completely worn off, then. A pity.

_Cute_ is the first think Dirk thinks, when he sees Eridan start to wake up. His fins switching, nose scrunching slightly before he seems to come all back to himself at once.

Shit, his eyes are intense. Dirk loves that. Like the fucking velociraptors in Jurassic Park. Intelligent, assessing, _dangerous_.

Oh, yes. Dirk is very lucky.

He's ready for Eridan to try something, but what ends up happening is Eridan trying to lunge, failing to move in any meaningful way, and flopping off the couch onto his side.

Cute.

Dirk walks over and rolls Eridan onto his back, straddling his thighs.

"Hello, Eridan." He says. "My name is Dirk. I'm your master." He spins the collar on his finger again. It's a nice one- Dirk's not about to fucking _skimp_ on his pets, what do you take him for- all black leather, soft against the skin and yet strong as hell. Iron lock in the back, pretty silver loop on the front, and a dangling tag with Eridan's name and Dirk's phone number.

Oh, and it's a shock collar. No need to tell Eridan that, of course.

"This can either be easy or hard." Dirk continues. "The easy way is you're a good pet. I treat you nicely, you get special privileges, you get to sleep with me in my bed, and you get the lounge of the house."

He smirks.

"The _hard_ way is you're a bad pet. You fight and bite and break things and I get to break _you_ , over and over until you decide to be good."

"Your choice."

There's a bit more hissing and thrashing when he feels Dirk's warm hands on his body, but his trim, muscular body still feels like play-doh when he tries to push himself up. He tells himself very firmly that it's just the sedative, and not at all that this human could overpower him.

His whole body _bristles_ like a goddamn anime character when Dirk calls himself his master, too, and he grits his teeth where his cheek is pressed into the carpet, trying to crane his neck in order to properly glare. He's offered a choice, and he bares his teeth, his full black lips stretched over a mouthful of knives. "I ain't a _pet_ , you philanderin' mammal. That's mighty fuckin' confident of you to claim you can break the likes a me. Remove your filthy, thin-skinned, hotblooded hands from me before I'm forced to do somethin' drastic."

That sounds more like imperious bitchiness then being a brat, but he's not exactly in a position to act on any of those threats.

Dirk smirks a bit wider. "Hard way it is." He drawls. Good. He slips the key from his pocket, unlocks the collar, and loops it around Eridan's neck, ignoring his furious curses. He turns the key until it fits snugly against Eridan's neck, then twists it to settle it in place properly, the tag dangling right in the hollow of Eridan's neck.

How pretty.

"You are." He drawls. "You're my legal property, bought and owned." Dirk grabs Eridan's face with one hand, squishing his cheeks slightly. "Better get used to it." He murmurs, then lets go and reaches for the hem of Eridan's shirt. Time to inspect the goods.

He tugs it up and runs his hands up Eridan's sides, rubbing his thumbs over Eridan's grubscars, curious to see what kind of noises he'll make- apparently they're very sensitive.

Eridan's next few words are overtaken by his furious growling and tooth-gnashing, only becoming more violent when the collar closes around his neck. "Didn't you hear me? I'm not pickin' the hard way, I'm picking the third option, which is you _removin' your filthy mitts from my hide_ so you can fight me like a-"

Wherever that little speech had been going, it's abruptly cut off by Dirk grabbing his cheeks and squishing them into a distinctly undignified fishface, which really disarms the violent glare he's giving him. There's a few seconds of resentful silence as he's released, his muscles tensing as he feels his shirt being tugged up, before letting out some kind of strangled squeak as he feels his grubscars being rubbed over. "Hkghh- don't- don't do that!"

"Don't do what?" Dirk asks idly, brushing his thumbs over the next set again. " _This_?" He strokes slowly, curving his hands to follow the whole line of the third set.

"Alright." He agrees, dips his head, and licks over the brilliantly violet scar on Eridan's side.

Eridan just sets his jaw, doing his best to not let out any more incriminating noises, but there's still a low rumble forced out from somewhere deep in his throat when Dirk's hands slowly stroke over his grubscars. His touch is light, but they still feel almost too sensitive in a way that makes his skin crawl.

The hands leave him, and he lets out a quiet breath, face still half pressed into the carpet, before his eyes widen and he lets out a sudden trembling shriek when he feels his scar being _licked_ , soft and wet and warm. His hips jerk, entirely without his say-so, and his face is flushing a pleasant shade of violet as his voice comes hissing furiously. " _Disgustin_ ' filthy human, puttin' your dirty mouth on me, I'll- I'll-"

Cute, cute, _cute_. The noises Eridan is fighting so hard to hold back are nothing but _cute_ and Dirk wants to hear them get torn from his mouth forever.

" _Disgusting_?" Dirk purrs. "Seems your body has a pretty big difference of opinion." He switches sides and licks over the lowest grubscar on the other side, enjoying the slightly-cool touch under his tongue. Seadwellers run the coolest out of all the trolls, but it's not _cold_ \- just a few degrees deviation across the hemospectrum.

His hands find Eridan's hips, giving them a gentle little squeeze before sliding up his sides, just feeling his skin.

There's a clear effort made to slow his breathing and stay calm, but it doesn't last. "My body is just as violently repulsed by you as my mind is, and for good goddamn reaso- _fuck_!" As soon as he feels his warm tongue against his lower scars again, his voice shoots up about an octave, fins flattening against the sides of his face in humiliation. Maybe he should just.. stop talking. Just to be safe.

He still can't resist a little shudder of dislike as he feels warm, calloused hands squeezing his hips and feeling up his sides. Dirk can feel his cool violet blood pumping fast and frantic under his skin and his muscles corded up like springs, ready to try and wriggle out of his grip at the slightest opening.

Dirk holds back a chuckle as Eridan's voice leaps higher than a yowling cat. A yowling kitten, even.

Hm. Theres a nickname idea.

He can feel that Eridan is starting to come out of more of the sedation, his muscles tensing under Dirk's hands, so Dirk decides its time to move on and get this show on the road.

His hands find the hem of Eridan's pants and yanks them down as far as they'll go with Dirk on his thighs, swings off of Eridan's thighs, and proceeds to bend Eridan in half while pulling his pants the rest of the way off, pressing Eridan's knees to his chest, completely exposing him to Dirk.

Eridan is taken off guard as his pants are yanked down around his thighs, but the sudden release of the weight on his thighs is exactly the chance he's been looking for. He pushes himself up with his elbows, intent on leaping at Dirk, but he's tripped up in his pants and being shoved back down again before he can do much of anything. Before he knows it, his knees are being held to his chest, his feed up around his ears, and his already-flushed face goes bright purple at the humiliating position he's been put into.

Between his legs, his nook is spread and flushed a delicate shade of purple to match the rest of him, the very tip of his bulge peeking from his sheath. After a couple seconds of squirming and looking beyond embarrassed, Eridan suddenly remembers that his hands are still free and starts digging his carefully blunted claws into Dirk's hands, hissing and spitting like the ornery cat he's already been compared to.

"Aw." Dirk coos at Eridan's attempt at fighting back. "Cute." He settles his thighs on either sides of Eridan's hips, lets go of his legs, twists his hands to break Eridan's grip, and grabs his wrists instead. Leaning forwards, he pins Eridan's wrists to the floor above his head- tucking Eridan's ankles under his armpits in the process.

Nice and neat. One violet troll, at his mercy. Dirk's crotch is pressed right up against Eridan's, their faces barely a foot apart.

"Now," Dirk says, amused, "that's not very nice. I'm taking care of you, after all." He shifts his grip on Eridan's wrists to be one-handed, squeezing them tightly. His other hand comes down to cup over the side of Eridan's neck- over his gills- his thumb pressing right up underneath Eridan's chin, forcing it up.

"But if you want to make this hard," Dirk says softly, applying a little bit of pressure, "then we can make this hard."

The _power_ rushing through his veins right now- it's fucking _intoxicating_.

Dirk pins Eridan's wrists down and leaves him pretzeled in on himself in a way that makes him completely helpless- and not only that, but he does it on only a few fluid motions, still with that stupid grin on his face like he thinks this is all a game. Eridan couldn't be more pissed, and it shows on his face, the way his lips are pulled back again in a murderous scowl.

That sour expression only falters when Dirk presses his hips to Eridan's, and he feels the rough drag of fabric over his sensitive nook, forcing him to suck in a quick gasp at the sensation- but as soon as that momentary crack in the shell is gone, he resolves to pretend as hard as he can that it didn't happen.

It doesn't last long. Dirk's hand is around his throat, and the grip of his other hand is still enough to hold down both of his , which is _infuriating_. He lets out a low, threatening growl that Dirk can feel rumbling from his neck into his fingers, but it sputters out like an old car when his chin is tilted up and his windpipe is squeezed.

Maybe it takes him a second or two to figure out a coherent response, and when he does, his voice comes out strained and a little wavery. Eridan is not willing to admit this if questioned, but the fact remains.

"If- If you're expectin' someone like me to be _nice_ to a dirty lowdown dirtgrubbin' creature like you, you must've got somethin' wrong with your head."

Dirk strokes his thumb slowly down the front of Eridan's throat, until it reaches the collar.

"You'll play nice." He says. "One way or another." Eridan's threats barely even register on the scale, other than as the start of a baseline for a 'how pissed is Eridan' scale.

He lets go of Eridan's throat but keeps his wrists pinned, shifting Eridan's thighs a bit to let them fall on either side of Dirk's body. He adjusts the position of his knees, reaches down, and drags his thumb over Eridan's nook.

"What a pretty color." Dirk muses, rubbing his thumb slowly, watching Eridan's expression.

Eridan pipes down again, but he looks sorely tempted to try and bite Dirk's nose off as he feels his hand stroke his throat, fins wide in a full threat display. He's shuffled around with barely any effort on Dirk's part, _again_ , which is just as humiliating as the first time- but then, he's been straining to try and bust out of his grip for the last five minutes solid.

He relaxes his limbs just a touch, just to let himself recover a little so he can try again, when his thighs are shifted apart and a thumb is rubbed against his bare nook, coaxing an instant chirring noise out of somewhere in his chest.

Eridan looks like a kid caught breaking the rules for a moment before he hisses at the top of his lungs and starts blindly kicking at Dirk's back and hips. Unfortunately, with the way his legs are being held apart as they are, all he really succeeds in doing is rubbing his thighs up and down the sides of Dirk's torso, and it's embarrassingly clear that his theatrics are to cover up the way this is affecting him.

Dirk wonders absentmindedly how sensitive Eridan's fins are, watching them flare out threateningly. He's not stupid enough to touch them right now- Eridan will absolutely snap at him.

But that _noise_ \- adorable. A pretty little trill from getting his nook stroked before Eridan starts trying to struggle again. Dirk doesn't relent, stroking his thumb over his nook until it starts getting slick, then twisting his hand and slipping two fingers right inside, into that cool, wet space.

For the moment, Eridan's too occupied wiggling around and making a nuisance of himself to say much of anything, but Dirk's still able to get plenty reaction from him. For all that he shrieks and howls and thrashes, trying to look like a big scary beast that he shouldn't be anywhere near, his nook soon starts to _pour_ clear, pale purple slick, enough to coat his fingers and run down his ass and thighs. His bulge is starting to poke out too, a pretty, deep shade of midnight purple, and the first inch of it curls up to smear across his belly.

Then, Dirk pushes two fingers in all at once, and Eridan yips as he tries to toss his head, the sharp tips lightly thunking into the carpet. He's _tight_ , his nook squeezing and twitching around the intrusion, and when he speaks his voice comes out throaty and shaking, face hot and eyes like saucers. "Hhuh- nnh- no! No, 'm- 'm a highblood, supposed t'be on top, suppost to _dominate_ the weak, _filthy_ humans- mnnh!"

"Weak?" Dirk laughs, thrusting his fingers in all the way and then pulling them all the way out. He lays a firm, wet _slap_ over Eridan's nook, then another. "The only _weak_ one here is you, Eridan. You're pinned down, collared, a pet."

He slaps Eridan's nook a third time, for good measure, and then shoves his two fingers back in. God damn this is the hottest fucking thing he's ever seen. Eridan, squirming and blushing so prettily, trying to fight and deny his place, but his _body_ being so slutty and wet- oh, Eridan's body knows what it's good for. It's good for taking cocks and serving humans.

Eridan's eyes cross a little when he suddenly shoves his fingers in to the last knuckle and then pulls them out, his body shuddering, before his bulge twitches hard and another loud yelp is forced out of his mouth as he's slapped across the nook, once, then again.

The pronouncement that he's the weak one, he's a pet, makes him so mad that he sees red. Literally- his bright yellow sclera start to shift redder, a classic indicator of the berserk state that highbloods can be at risk for slipping into if not properly trained, but then Dirk slaps him a third time and fills him up again, and he's crying out in a mixture of rage and overstimulated pleasure as his bulge slides the rest of the way out. It's fat and slick and pretty, smearing more of his slick all over the smooth skin of his stomach before curling down and trying to wrap around the back of his hand.

"There we go, welcome to the party." Dirk croons, but- he's keeping an eye on Eridan as he slides his fingers free and turns his hand to close his fingers around Eridan's bulge. "So fucking pretty, aren't you?"

If Eridan goes into a rage, that'll be... mm, not _bad_ , but certainly unfortunate. Dirk would like to fuck him for the first time without needing to shock him. Maybe he should stop teasing _quite_ so much.

He gives Eridan's bulge a long, firm stroke, teasing more pleasure out of the poor troll. "I bet your body is _aching_ for more, isn't it?" He says, repeating the motion. "Are you going to ask nicely?" Dirk squeezes at the base of Eridan's bulge- lightly, not enough to hurt- and drags his thumb down to rub over the slick of Eridan's nook.

Eridan is open-mouthed and panting raggedly as Dirk draws his fingers out of him and strokes at his squirming bulge, eyes slightly glazed and hands flexing uselessly where they’re pinned to the floor by Dirk’s hands. His eyes are only a little orangey now, the rage having been slightly shocked out of him by the unexpected slap, but he’s still almost too angry to speak.

Almost. For a while, all he can do is let out quiet, gravely moans, chest heaving and his hips jerking up whenever he kneads at his bulge, before a violent shudder runs down his spine as it’s squeezed. His words are barely staying together, slurring and toothy, and his moans keep slipping through to interrupt him.

“Ffffuck you. Fuck you, ‘m gonna- gonna fuckin’ kill you, gonna spill your stupid offspectrum blood- _mmmm_ -”

Resorting to explicit threats of violence is a new tactic, but it’s not very intimidating, seeing as he’s very nearly drooling at this point.

"You can try," Dirk says, giving another long pull of Eridan's bulge, before letting go. "But I doubt you'll go through with it."

He slips two fingers back into Eridan's nook and starts fucking them in. Grinding along his slightly-cool walls, twisting and plunging and working his nook over until he just slips his pinkie on in there too, just his index left out, and starts fingerfucking Eridan in earnest.

Eridan is already moaning and squirming so prettily underneath him- it looks like his rage is subsiding. Looks like Dirk is going to literally get to fuck his new pet into submission.

How delicious.

Any witty response he could have managed is silenced by his nook being filled once again, a choked-back whine slipping out of him as another finger presses in alongside the other two. He'd been in just-as-high levels of denial about how wet he'd gotten from this treatment, but with the way Dirk's fucking him with half his hand, he can't ignore the obscene, slick noise it's all making.

Eridan tries his best, but his best isn't all that impressive at this point. There are a few more haphazard kicks and jolts of his legs, and he spits a few more garbled insults up at Dirk, but it isn't long until he's laying back against the floor with his eyes unfocused and his mouth open to moan, demandingly rocking his hips into his hand. Maybe he's just being lulled into calming down, going slack from the repetitive stroking of fingers over the sharply senstive patches on the inside of his nook, but it's major progress.

Oh, _there_ we go. So fucking cute, now, with his gaze hazy and his body relaxing and his fins flicking slightly- this is what he wants to see from his new pet. Fussy but settles right down for a good dicking.

Speaking of which- Eridan is _more_ than ready. Dirk doesn't let go of his wrists as he slides his fingers free of Eridan's nook, hand finding his belt and undoing it roughly.

He pulls out his dick and grinds it slowly against Eridan's nook, getting his length wet. "You going to ask me nicely, Eridan?" Dirk murmurs. Eridan feels so deliciously cool against him- he can only imagine how hot and throbbing his dick must feel to the troll.

All Eridan can do is let out a low whine when his fingers draw out and don't come back, thighs twitching and hips continuing to twitch up into nothing, but his eyes seem to clear a little bit when he hears the jangling of Dirk's belt. Suddenly, there's a thick, _hot_ alien cock pressing and rubbing up against his empty nook, smearing the purple slick, and he utterly fails at holding back something along the lines of a shriek.

"I- I-" No, he has to keep a clear head. He won't let himself be manipulated by such mammalian trash. Nevermind the fact that he was squirming and grinding on his fingers just a few seconds ago. "I do _not_ want your- your.. disgusting animal cock instead of me." Any followup comments are forgotten, as he's suddenly occupied with trying to pretend that his voice didn't break when he said 'cock.' The temperature difference is so much, but it feels so _good_ , and he can feel the way it's twitching against his bulge, making his nook squeeze around nothing and his bulge practically tie itself in a knot in response.

The _noise_ Eridan makes when he feels Dirk's cock- he's so noisy and it's _delightful_. Dirk wants to wring every noise possible out of him. At full volume. Repeatedly.

"No?" Dirk purrs. "That's a shame. Because you're getting it."

He presses the tip of his cock into Eridan's nook. It's cool, it's wet, it's sucking him in, never wanting him to pull out. It feels like fucking _heaven_.

He resists the urge to thrust all the way in and gently presses inch after inch into his brand new pet, _drinking_ in Eridan's expression, luxuriating in his noises.

He doesn't get a chance to start hollering at Dirk before the head of his cock is suddenly spreading him and then pushing _in_ , agonizingly slow, stretching his tight nook deeper and deeper. His eyes are as wide as saucers, and all he can do is lay there and whine in the back of his throat, his thighs tense and locked. Still, Dirk's hips just force them apart as he nudges his hips forward.

Trolls are built to take troll bulges, at the end of the day. They're built for something malleable and tapered and prehensile, so the stiff, blunt shape of a human cock slowly stretching him open is enough to render him speechless. He thumps his head back against the carpet, nook slickly clenching down over and over again. Then, he pushes forward yet another inch- the head of dirk's cock rubs over a ridge at the upper wall of his nook and his whole body spasms in pleasure, his bulge thrashing hard enough to let out an audible _slap_ as it hits his stomach. "Uhh- hhahhh, uh- i don'- don' like it- _uhh_ -"

Dirk is so fucking hard right now. Eridan's wide, overwhelmed expression, his protests- and yet his cool nook _sucking_ Dave in, his bulge thrashing- it feels so fucking good to make this proud creature submit. The deeper Dirk presses the tighter it gets- but never so tight that it's painful.

He sinks his cock all the way in, holds Eridan's bulge, and gives it a long, firm stroke.

"You sure?" He asks. He pulls back an inch or two and slowly rocks it back in.

Eridan’s toes curl in the air behind Dirk’s back when he presses in all the way, feeling how the unyielding shape inside him holds him open and keeps him that way. He can feel Dirk’s balls pressing hot against his skin like this, and he can feel the shameful slick he’s been getting all over everything, even though there’s no way in all the heavens that he ever could possibly like this.

Certainly not. No. There’s nothing about this that’s enjoyable. Then, Dirk wraps his hand around his bulge and strokes it firmly, and Eridan gets dangerously close to cumming all over himself, with an appropriately embarrassing noise to accompany it.

“I’m- mm!” Dirk _thrusts_ , just a little. Eridan knows how humans fuck, all ungainly thrusting like rutting beasts, and the idea should really be objectively repulsive to him, but he finds himself staring at the ceiling with his nook clenching over and over again instead of giving an answer.

Dirk laughs as Eridan's answer is cut off. He lets go of Eridan's bulge and hooks his hand behind Eridan's knee, pressing it up and to Eridan's chest so he can shift his stance a little, angle himself better, and start to move.

It's just a little rocking to start, gotta get his poor, virgin nook warmed up to the feeling of a dick.

"You're so adorable, Eridan." Dirk says. "Get a little dick in you and you go so sweet and docile. It's _beautiful_. You're exactly what I wanted."

He grins, keeping that slow, steady rock of just a couple of inches out, then in. He really wants Eridan to be feeling it at his deepest points. "You're going to be a perfect little pet for me. I can tell, your nook is trying to suck me in and not let me out."

Eridan groans as his leg is pressed up towards his chest, leaving him spread wide open for Dirk to stare at. He presses back against the hand on his knee, of course, but his legs are shaking a little, nook only feeling tighter and wetter around him as his body is pushed around like he’s nothing more then a doll.

Then, he starts moving, and that little ridge inside him gets dragged over in gentle little motions _over_ and _over_ and _over_. His violet-streaked hair is plastered to his face with a light sheen of sweat, and his gills are visibly fluttering, the tender filaments exposed for seconds at a time as he tries to catch his breath through as many systems as possible.

It feels so good, in a way that he absolutely hates. It doesn’t make sense. He is a strong, dangerous creature that belongs on the top of the food chain, preferably with a creature like this crushed beneath his boot, but he can’t stop making these ridiculous noises and squirming in his cock. Well, more vehement denials always fixes everything. Hhnn- yh. You’re. Not gonna break me. You said you’d break me, but- _fuck_ \- but you can’t.”

Dirk rocks slowly as Eridan protest, listening to him posture and protest and bitch, and hums a little in response. Eridan is feeling it, feeling good, and yet he's still fighting so hard, despite moaning and sounding so pleasured. How cute.

"We'll see about that." Dirk says, and _thrusts_ , shoving his hips forwards. He sinks all the way into Eridan, goes up a little on his knees, and starts fucking him for real. Strong, powerful thrusts that fuck deep into Eridan, his balls smacking against Eridan's ass, getting wet from the _river_ of slick thats pouring from his nook.

"If you ask me nicely I'll touch your bulge." Dirk growls. "Otherwise you're going to cum right here on just my filthy human cock."

However Eridan had been planning to respond, it promptly flies out his head when Dirk shoves deeper into him and presses forward, forcing his hips up with the change in angle. He hadn't been even close to composed earlier, but he hadn't been prepared for this at all. Dirk starts _fucking_ him, grinding his hips into the carpet and sending his entire body jolting with every thrust, and Eridan just starts screaming.

He's been noisy up to this point, sure, but now he's making a fucking racket, caterwauling at the top of his lungs, his eyes wide and glazed-over as his fins twitch sporadically, body jerking and shuddering under the onslaught. When Dirk growls down at him, his chest begins to heave and he chokes on his noises, frantically shaking his head. "No, no, nononono, _no_ -" But this time, he doesn't seem to be talking to Dirk- more like he's pleading with himself.

He can feel his nook clenching and his bulge becoming more and more active, and he _can't,_ but he does anyway. Only a few seconds after Dirk's sentence stops, Eridan's eyes roll back in his head and his cool alien cunt goes tight as a vice, his hips jerking up and his fingers curling in on themeslves to press their nails against his palms. His bulge twitches and squirms, wriggling in place, before jets of deep purple genematerial start to shoot out and soak into the front of his shirt. He cums, harder then he thought he could, with Dirk's cock still buried deep inside him.

Eridan starts _wailing_ and it's like goddamn music to Dirk's ears. His expression is terrified and helpless and his fins are twitching and shaking and he's _struggling_ so hard- god, _yes_ this is what Dirk wants, this is what he wants to see. His pretty little pet overtaken and helpless.

He slams his _filthy human cock_ into his new pet, feeling him go tight and _sucking_ and his slutty, _slutty_ new violet troll cums so fucking hard on just Dirk's cock, bulge trashing and spilling genmat up his front.

" _There_ we go." Dirk murmurs and slams in deep, starting a deep, shallow fuck, barely pulling an inch out before humping it back in, hard and punishing as Eridan cums, not letting up for a moment. "You like that, kitten?" He coos. "You like coming on my dick, untouched? You like the feeling of being forced to submit?"

Eridan stares blearily at the ceiling, his face feeling hot and wet, his nook continuing to clench down with every drag of Dirk's cock inside him. Then, he feels the human press down harder and hump him fast and hard into the carpet, pumping into his oversensitized and sore nook even as he tries to come down from his orgasm.

Dirk's talking at him again. The small portion of his thinkpan that hasn't been shorted out is deeply offended, of course, and a little sick at the fact that he's absolutely right, but he certainly can't say anything about it now. Instead, all he can do is let out a strangled sob and tug at his pinned-down hands again, face going slack as his bulge twitches and lets out another few weak jets of slurry. There's a puddle under him. He's _disgusting_.

He's crying- _adorable_. Dirk switches to a slow, deep grind, letting go of Eridan's thigh to reach up and cup his cheek. "Aw, kitten." He murmurs, thumbing away tears from Eridan's cheek. "It's alright, I've got you." He murmurs. "I've got you, doesn't it feel good?" He coos. "It feels good to be put in your place."

He slides his hand down Eridan's front, slipping his fingers through the slurry pooling on Eridan's belly, resting as a firm weight. Dirk's getting close, but he's curious to see if he can coax another from Eridan.

He drags his fingers down more and wraps them around Eridan's bulge.

"You came so prettily for me, Eridan." Dirk breathes, giving his wrists and bulge a little squeeze together. "Let's see if you'll give me another." He starts rocking and thrusting again, fucking hard and deep.

Dirk's still on top of him, pressing him down with his weight, filling him up far more then he thinks he should be, but then he reaches up a hand and.. presses it against his cheek. He wipes his tears away. He's acting and talking so _pale_ , suddenly, even as he ruins him in the worst way Eridan can picture.

He knows humans aren't supposed to have quadrants, but that can't possible be right. This feels too purposeful to be anything other than an attempt to fuck with him. Whatever it is, it only takes a few seconds of petting and murmured praise before Eridan just bursts out crying, going limp under Dirk, his legs splayed out against the stained carpet.

It feels so bad, but it feels so good, and it _hurts_ , but he can feel his bulge starting to wake up when the pace picks him, his nook still so wet and open. He might cum again. He doesn't want to, that would just prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he's exactly what Dirk's calling him, but that's not enough to make the feeling go away.

Eridan goes _limp_ and starts crying for real, and Dirk knows it's time for softness. He shifts to a slower, gentle rock and gently brings Eridan's arms down, taking a wrist in each hand and gently pressing a kiss to the veins on the underside.

"It's okay, kitten." Dirk murmurs. "I know, it's a lot, isn't it? Everything's so much." He kisses over one, then the other, rocking slow and gentle. "It's okay, though, I've got you. You're mine- that means I'll take care of you real good, Eridan. I take good care of my things."

He looks down at Eridan, and takes a risk. He lets go of Eridan's wrists, leaning in to brush a kiss to Eridan's cheek as his hands settle on Eridan's waist.

"I've got you." He murmurs.

Eridan shudders again, choking on his own noises, as Dirk keeps speaking to him so _tenderly_ and touching him so gentle like that. He’s vaguely aware of his hands being moved, but his mind feels foggy, glazed, overstimulated by all of this to the point that it’s just decided to take a step back.

Nobody’s ever kissed his hand before. It’s nice. He’s not sure if anyone’s kissed him before, actually. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, to be nice. To be soft. He feels soft, now, like he’s not really capable of being much else.

He’s one of Dirk’s things. A little voice in the wayback of his brain tells him to scream his indignation, sink his teeth in, tear with his claws until he tastes iron on his tongue, but then- Dirk leans down and kisses him on the cheek, leaving his hands free, and Eridan is motionless.

He just stays sprawled across the floor, letting Dirk rut him without a hint of his earlier protest, just letting out the occasional quiet chirrup from the back of his throat.

Eridan is soft and limp underneath him, not fighting, not fussing, just expression soft and glazed over, adorable little chirps coming from him. Dirk feels a wave of affection for this fussy troll and leans in to press another kiss to his cheek.

"Good boy." Dirk murmurs. He kisses slowly up Eridan's jaw, to his fin- where he slowly traces his tongue up along the delicate webbing, so gentle and careful. He just wants to test the sensitivity- he doesn't want to _hurt_ the poor troll.

He slides one hand off of Eridan's hip to find his bulge instead, taking it in hand and stroking it lightly, grinding slow and gentle into his cool, soppingly wet nook.

"I've got you, kitten." Dirk breathes, knowing he's close, wanting Eridan to cum again before they're done. "One more time and then you're done, Eridan. Cum for me." He slides his tongue along the delicate webbing of Eridan's fin again.

Eridan tenses and shivers a little when he feels Dirk's soft mouth against his fin, bulge twitching between their stomachs, but it's not enough to snap him out of whatever daze he's in. His fins _are_ sensitive, and all he can do is let out a high-pitched, overwhelmed whine at the touch, the appendages frantically twitching against his tongue.

Thankfully, it doesn't look like he's in pain, and the delicate skin between the tines has such a pleasant texture that touching it is almost addictive. It's like fine silk, the same deep purple as his eyes and his bulge, broadcasting every emotion that goes through his brain with their angling.

Between this, the hand squeezing his bulge, and Dirk on top of him with that soft voice telling him just what he should be doing, Eridan probably couldn't hold off his orgasm even if he had the presence of mind to try. He lets out a strangled noise, eyes going blank once more as his bulge stiffens and more genemat wells up between Dirk's fingers, nook clenching in insistent waves.

Oh, his fins are _delightfully_ sensitive. Dirk licks slowly over the delicate webbing, and then Eridan _cums_ so perfectly, nook going tight and sucking on his dick.

Dirk groans softly, thrusting roughly a couple of times to finally get himself to that peak, plunging in deep and grinding as he cums, heat pulsing deep into Eridan's nook.

"My perfect little kitten." Dirk murmurs, kissing Eridan's cheek as he works him through his second orgasm. "See how sweet it is when you're good?"

The unnatural heat of Dirk cumming inside his nook makes another full-body shudder run through him before he goes entirely slack once more, still squeezing down around him in the aftershocks. His eyes are only open a sliver, but even the. Dirk can see that there’s nothing in there right now- he’s completely out of it, no thoughts in his head, the only noises an occasional almost-automatic moan.

Soon enough, his bulge is attempting to retreat into his sheath, tired and overstimulated, and one last grind of Dirk’s hips makes Eridan shudder as his eyes roll back and he passes out cold. There’s no way of telling how he’ll be when he wakes up, but for now, he seems pretty thoroughly broken.

Dirk rides his orgasm out on a groan before he pulls back, sitting back on his heels.

"God." He breathes, seeing that Eridan is completely passed out. "You are so fucking perfect." He smooths his hands over Eridan's body, just exploring his form now that he's unconscious. His mouth purses at how skinny he feels- if Eridan wasn't getting enough food at the breeders Dirk'll be _pissed_. He'll need to make sure that Eridan gets enough to eat and keep an eye on his habits.

But for now, he's got an unconscious pet to clean up and get dressed properly.

He scoops Eridan up in his arms and carries him upstairs to the bathroom to clean him up while he's unconscious, before getting him dressed in a carefully-chosen outfit.

Dirk's not ashamed of the fact that it took him ten minutes to talk himself out of dressing his pet troll up in a maid outfit or seifuku.

Instead, what he puts Eridan is a combination of sexy and comfy. Black thigh high stockings, topped with violet bows, a large, black cashmere sweater, and a flowing violet circle skirt that goes down to just below Eridan's knees.

And black, silk panties, of course. Dirk's a man, can you blame him?

With Eridan cleaned up and dressed, Dirk brings him into his office and gentle settles him into his cushy lounging chair that he has, tucking a blanket over him before settling in to do some _obnoxious_ adult work.

Responding to emails.

Christ, it's enough to give any man a headache. He keeps an eye on Eridan, though, the shock collar remote with in his pocket.


	2. Chapter 2

Eridan doesn’t show a single flicker of consciousness throughout the entire process of cleaning him up and dressing him- at least, when he’s unconscious, he’s already the perfect doll.

Eventually, he starts to wake up in degrees, feeling less woozy then when he’d been shaking off the sedative but still out of sorts. He just lays there for a few seconds, trying to keep his breathing the same, before taking a cautious peer at Dirk from under his eyelashes, closing them quickly once he gets a good look at the room.

It’s hard to resist sneering at the strange, soft clothes he’s been dressed in, but he can still probably fuck Dirk up, even wearing this nonsense. He just has to wait and see.

Dirk can see little twitches and figures that Eridan is waking up, his fins are particularly the most telling, but he keeps his gaze fixed on his computer, waiting to see what Eridan will do.

If he goes for the throat, well, that's what his collar's for. It's honestly what Dirk is expecting, anything other than that and he'll be pleasantly surprised.

None the wiser that Dirk knows he’s awake, he stays perfectly still and placid for another minute or so. The moment he thinks he might be distracted by something, though, he springs into action- he gets his legs under him and _pounces_ , eyes blazing.

His hands go for Dirk’s arms, trying to pin them down to whatever he can reach. The breeders had blunted his claws, but they hadn’t blunted his teeth, and he comes at him intent on landing a savage bite on his face.

Eridan bunches up and Dirk's hand is already plunging down for the controller, hand wrapping around it as Eridan collides with him. Eridan's hands pin his arms down, but Dirk managed to wedge a knee up between them, pushing it into Eridan's chest and keeping Eridan inches from his neck.

"Did you have a good nap, Eridan?" Dirk asks mildly, as if they're two friends chatting about the weather.

The air's knocked out of him for a second when he slams into Dirk's leg, teeth snapping shut a few inches away from his nose. He lets out a loud, frustrated growl of frustration and digs his blunted claws into Dirk's arm, straining to lean in closer, not quite able to push in enough to do any damage- but he hasn't noticed the controller yet. Whoopsie daisy.

Dirk tuts a little at Eridan's growling and snapping. "Manners, pet." He scolds, and flips the switch. It's not turned up very high, but it should be enough to hurt. Not a _lot_ , of course, but enough to make him regret his aggression.

Well, fuck. Maybe he should have realized that the collar served a purpose besides staking a claim and making him look utterly ridiculous, but he doesn't realize soon enough to keep the shock from happening. Eridan reels back with a choked-up yelp, blunted claws leaving red abrasions on Dirk's forearms, and staggers backwards through the room as he tries to tug at the damn thing around his neck, still hissing and spitting up a storm.

The collar, of course, holds firm, and Dirk sits back in his chair, watching his pet struggle and claw at it. His arms sting like shit, but that's whatever. It'll probably be gone in a couple of hours.

"Eridan?" Dirk asks. "Are you going to do that again?" Remaining calm and collected.

“Of course I’m gonna fuckin’ do that again. Stop lookin’ at me like that.” After a while, he seems to realize the collar’s not coming off soon, so he backs up against the nearest wall and glares over at Dirk with all the fury he can muster.

The expression doesn’t hold for very long, though. It takes him maybe a few seconds for his fins to abruptly fold back as he realizes exactly what he’s wearing, patting at the pair of silk panties through his skirt with a look of utter bewilderment on his hands. He manages to go back to looking nice and pissed in a few seconds, but the color high on his cheeks is laughably easy to spot.

Dirk hums a little. "At least you're honest." He says, turning his attention back to his computer as Eridan backs off, staying against the wall and glaring at him.

Aw, he's threat displaying. His fins are flared so-

Oop. Looks like he found out about the panties. Adorable. Dirk gives him a minute or two of being embarrassed and furious before he looks up at him.

"Would you like a tour of your new home, or are you planning on being pissy enough all day to need caging?" He asks.

Eridan’s not sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t Dirk just going back to that machine of his. Some unwelcome, deeply buried part of him starts making a racket about being ignored, but he promptly silenced it before he has to think about why it’s there.

“I-“ Okay. Okay. Maybe he should start being a little strategic here. As much as he would like to try and tear Dirk’s throat out, a cage sounds... bad, and like it would diminish his chance of escape.

Maybe playing along for a little bit would be advantageous. “Seein’ the rest of this house might be.. pleasant.” He grinds out, face forced into a barely-maintained neutral.

Dirk almost ignores the message from Hal that pops up on his computer.

HAL: You realize he's probably going to go for your throat the moment your back is turned, right?

"Good." Dirk says, and types out a quick response.

TT: Doesn't that make it more fun?

He shuts his laptop and rises to his feet, striding from the room with barely a glance at Eridan.

"Come along, Eridan." Dirk says. The controller is back in his pocket again, but he doesn't feel the need to hold it. If Eridan attacks him again, he'll just beat his ass old-school style.

Eridan bristles a little at the command, half considering staying behind just to be contrary. There’s still only a little bit of hesitation before he follows, holding his head high, trying to ignore how nice the skirt feels against his legs.

Maybe he’ll hold off on trying again, just to get a look at the house. Always better to have an idea of a battleground before the fight begins. And his neck still hurts a little from the shock, but that certainly isn’t something he’s worrying about too much.

"Right." Dirk says, as they step into the hall. "That's my office, that's where all my _boring_ adult work happens. Mostly talking to other people who think they're the greatest in the world." He closes the door behind them.

His house is all hardwood floors. If he wants carpet, he'll get it in the area he wants. His walls are a boring cream that he keeps that way for simplicity's sake (ugh, when did he become an _adult_ adult?) , but he's got photos and art hung up where ever he deems appropriate.

The upstairs of the house is simple. Stairs up to a rectangular landing with rooms around it.

"Directly across from my office, the guest bedroom." Dirk says, waving a hand at the door in question. "Nothing really interesting in there. My brother mainly uses it whenever he stops by."

He steps over to a slightly-open door and pushes it open. "Bathroom," he says, then steps to the next one, "this one's my bedroom." He gestures for Eridan to follow him inside.

Dirk's gotten neater over the years, that's for sure, but it's still rather disorganized to the untrained eye. He's the kind of guy who has a place for everything, but in that "having a place", it looks like shit's just been thrown anywhere.

"Here’s the lowdown." Dirk says. "I don't care if you touch my stuff. Indulge whatever curiosity you want. But don't touch anything on my shelves and don't touch my computer. Understand?"

Eridan manages to put out an air of vague judgement throughout the entire tour, not responding to much besides the occasional dismissive sniff. He only speaks after Dirk states the rules, looking around the bedroom, hesitant to come in any further from where he's lingering near the door. "And where do you expect me to sleep?" He's sure he won't like the answer, whatever it is, but he can't help being curious.

Dirk hums a little, unbothered by Eridan's silent judgement. "That depends on you." He says, and then admends, "and me."

He steps out of his room, shuts the door, and gestures for Eridan to follow him to the last room of the upstairs.

"This is _your_ room." He says, opening the doors.

Once he had made the decision, he had set about cleaning the room out. It was initially a storage space, but this would be a much better use for it.

The walls are painted a light seafoam color, a thick, soft rug covering most of the floor. There are some empty shelves waiting to be filled, a dresser that already contains some already-purchased clothing for Eridan as well as a small single-sized bed with blue and white patterned sheets. The one window opens, but Dirk isn't worried about Eridan trying to jump out and run away- his property _is_ fenced in. There's a blackout curtain on the window that's currently drawn back to let the light in.

"This is your space." Dirk says, stepping aside to let Eridan enter. "You'll get privileges for it as you behave."

Everything on troll development says it's best to give them some space where they can retreat and feel safe if threatened- otherwise it can lead to outbursts from being forced into everything _all the time._

Kind of like dogs with their kennels. Ha.

He'll lock Eridan in here if he's bad, but he won't ever touch Eridan in this room. This room needs to be a safe place for him.

When Eridan steps into his room, he forgets to be angry, if just for a second. It's.. very nice, if a little plain and bright for his tastes. He sinks his stockinged feet into the carpet, wiggling his toes a little bit, his fins perking in interest.

Then, he remembers that Dirk's in the room with him, and that he is a _seadweller_. His fierce, powerful sire never would have had any thoughts like this, would he? Whatever kind of docile object this human expects him to be, a pretty room with an open window won't turn him into that. He doesn't have anything appropriately snappish to say, so he doesn't say anthing at all- he just purses his lips and stares at the room, then at Dirk, trying his best to forget the momentary lapse in willpower.

Eridan is silent as he takes in the room, and with his back to Dirk, he can't see his expressions, but his fins perk up a little.

He still looks like he's vaguely pissy as he turns back around to stare at Dirk, clearly impatient, so Dirk chuckles a little.

"I know it's bare, but you'll get stuff to fill it up with over time." He steps out of the room and shuts it once Eridan follows.

He leads Eridan downstairs. Right at the foot of the stairs is the small welcoming area for like... coats and boots and shit, but then to the right of the stairs it directly opens up into the main living room, a couple of couches, coffee table, TV, you know, regular ass shit. The crate Eridan was delivered in has been shoved over to the wall to be dealt with later.

To the left of the stairs is the door that goes to the garage, and Dirk puts a hand on it.

"In here is my workshop." He says. "There's shit in here that can _seriously_ fuck you up if you're not careful. For the time being you are not allowed in my workshop if I am not there. Understand?"

Eridan's fins twitch in annoyance, but he doesn't say anything, only continuing to follow. He's sorely tempted to try and shove Dirk down the stairs when they go down them, but it's too much of a risk- they're not long enough to ensure he'd be incapacitated, and then Eridan would be in deep shit.

Past the living room, his fins pin back and his face goes vaguely purple again as he sees the couch where he'd woken up, and the strip of floor in between the coffee table and the couch where Dirk had fucked him. He averts his eyes fairly quickly, but there's a humiliating heat that lingers on his face, even when they move on to the next door.

And.. ooh. That's interesting. He's still not quite sure what this human _does_ , but it could be useful to him in the future. He eyes Dirk, then the door, and manages a reluctant "I understand." accompanied by the subtle sneer that seems to accompany most of his words. He really would be prettier if he stopped doing that.

Dirk's not overly worried about it. Hal will alert him if Eridan goes somewhere he shouldn't, so once Eridan acknowledges his words, he takes his hand off the door and leads him through the living room. There's a wall that divides the living room from the back area, where the kitchen, dining table, and another open space are all connected without walls.

"I don't have a set meal schedule." Dirk says. "I eat when I'm hungry."

Hm. He should probably lock the knives away. That's an oversight.

"As long as you're not under punishment, you can eat whenever you want." Dirk says. "Just don't leave a mess behind." He waves over at the other open area, which has a fireplace in the far wall, some bookshelves, and a couple of cushy chairs. "Sitting area, basically."

There's a small hallway that's basically a second coat area for coming in from the garage by the other door, as well as a downstairs bathroom and a door to the basement, which is all for storage. Dirk tells Eridan as much, and then takes him through the sliding doors past the dining table to the backyard.

His backyard is fenced in with brick walls- not his choice, they came line that- but it's a decently large space. He's got a decently-sized brick patio with a couple of deck chairs and that's it (what the fuck do... normal people put on patios, Dirk wonders), and something that he's sure will attract Eridan's attention.

A below ground swimming pool. Dirk drained it a couple of days and replaced it with freshwater- he's sure chlorine would burn Eridan's gills whenever he goes swimming.

Eridan keeps his opinions to himself through the rest of the house, trying not to think about the fact that he's finding the place downright _cozy_. A cage is a cage, no matter how gilded it is. And no matter how comfortable that armchair looks. His fins droop a little when he sees the brick walls- he's never been good at climbing- before he stops stock-still when he sees the pool.

 _Water_. Water big enough for swimming, deep enough that he could stand on the bottom without any trouble. His long-neglected gills flex at his sides as he stares at it, taking a deep breath in and not smelling even a little of those horrible chemicals so many humans put in their pools.

It's harder for him to rein in his fascination this time. Even as he tries to act nonplussed, he still has a bit of a moon-eyed look about him, and he keeps sneaking peeks at the pool out of the corner of his eye. "It's not terrible, I suppose."

This really is a nice setup. Maybe, when he eventually catches Dirk unawares and thoroughly disembowels him, he can just live here.

Dirk'll take it- it's probably the most approval he'll get for the time being. Eridan's got a faintly shell shocked expression on his face, the poor troll has a lot to adjust to. Better give him some space.

"Good." He says mildly. "I'll make lunch. Go swim if you'd like, don't worry about the collar. It's insulated, water won't trigger it." He makes a vague gesture at the pool before turning to go back inside. He can keep an eye on Eridan in the kitchen- he wouldn't put it past him to immediately try and escape.

Hmm, food. Trolls need a lot of meat in their diet, don't they? Burgers it is.

Eridan almost wishes Dirk would start being mean. Even when he’d been fucking him, before, he was all nice words and firm hands. Eridan _hates_ him, he hates humans, just like his sire always taught him to do, but it’s almost.. difficult.

Well.

If Eridan gets in the pool, it won’t have anything to do with Dirk telling him he could, and that’s final. He evenly ignores him as he goes back inside and lopes over to the edge, peering in and impatiently kicking off his stockings so he can dip in a toe.

When he first got it, Dirk didn't bother with heaters in the pool, figuring the only time he'd be using it it would be bitchingly hot enough that he wouldn't _want_ heaters.

Now, watching Eridan tentatively dip his toe in, Dirk wonders if perhaps he should get some installed. It doesn't get cold enough to _freeze_ the pool most years during the winter, but it would still get _uncomfortably_ cold.

Hm.

"Hal," He says, turning to glance at Hal's speaker in the kitchen, "what's the comfortable temperature range for violets?"

After a moment, Hal replies. "If you're worried about your pool being too cold for Eridan, don't worry. Violets have been recorded being in artic temperature waters and still feeling comfortable. Between their biology built for the ocean and their internal temperature regulatory systems, Eridan will be fine."

Dirk hums a little in understanding.

"Cool. Thanks. What's your opinion on him so far?"

"Bitchy." Hal says dryly. "What do you think, Oh Great Creator? He's a bred for profit pet who's been torn away from whatever place they were keeping him in, brought to his forever-home with probably barely a word. Of course he's doing to be fussy and upset."

Dirk rolls his eyes at Hal's sass.

"Thank you, Dr. Phil." He says.

"I might as well have a doctorate with how much research I did for you." Hal points out. "Be grateful. Dick."

"Alright, alright." Dirk sets the pan on the stove to heat up. "Fine. Let me rephrase, what do you think of _him joining us?"_

"I think he'll fit in nicely." Hal says mildly. "Just don't let him cut your throat in your sleep."

"Right." Dirk says, and goes to lock the knife block away.

Unaware of Dirk watching him from the kitchen, he crouches down at the edge of the pool and moodily dangles one hand in, biting his lip and watching the light play through the water.

Maybe he doesn’t wish quite as much that Dirk would be mean. It’s more like he wishes he didn’t like being treated nice.

All the other trolls, they’d forgotten the natural order of things- they’d forgotten that highbloods are supposed to be _in charge,_ everything in its place, and any creature that wasn’t a troll below even the most unworthy rust. If anything, the humans should be the ones being kept as pets, if given the privilege of continuing to survive when they were so obviously inferior.

At least, that’s how he thinks it should be. It’s how he was told it should be, once. It’s not like he was alive for the empire’s invasion.

According to that system, the idea of a human being the _master_ of him, a _violet_ , is so wrong it doesn’t even compute. That’s why he can’t listen to the little kernel of himself that doesn’t mind it.

Shoving all these thoughts as deep down as he can, like he’s learned to do with just about everything, he turns and walks back inside, staring at Dirk with narrowed eyes. “The water doesn’t have any salt in it.”

Dirk looks up from the pan as Eridan comes back in, waiting for the burgers to cook.

"Hm?" He glances out the window at the pool. "Yeah, filtration systems aren't exactly designed with saltwater in mind. It'll have to be freshwater for now, but I can work on some kind of pool filter schematic that might be able to filtrate saltwater without taking the salt out."

Actually, that might not be too hard. Maybe a little convoluted, filter the salt out but then just... add it back in maybe? Hm. Food for thought.

He returned his attention to the food. "What kind of food did they feed you?" He asks. _They_ , of course, meaning the breeders.

Oh. That makes sense, now that he thinks of it. Anyway, it’s not like he’ll die if he breathes freshwater, it just feels a little strange on his insides. It’s certainly the best he’s had in a while-

No, he was just thinking about this! This is stupid. By the time he starts paying attention again, Dirk’s asking him a question. His fins fold back a little. “They said it had all the nutrients I needed in it, but it was.. gross. Tasted like nothin’. Said I’d only get treats if I acted right.”

There’s contempt absolutely pouring out of his voice, but he takes a moment to look at what Dirk’s cooking, and his fins perk right back up again. Damn things.

That makes sense. Was probably cheap as hell to make, but the sound of it still makes Dirk grimace slightly in response.

"Sounds fucking nasty." He says. "Congrats, you're never going to taste that shit ever again. I guess we get to explore your tastebuds and figure out what you like, so come're." He gestures for Eridan to come over.

"There's a bunch of different shit that usually goes on burgers, but what I usually do is mayo, ketchup, onions, lettuce and tomato, so that's what I've got right now. As far as I know, shouldn't be anything in here that would kill ya, our digestive systems are compatible and all that."

Dirk plucks a single sliver of onion and holds it out to Eridan for him to try.

He’s definitely intrigued by the sight of cooking meat, but he seems a little bewildered by the array of toppings, leaning back a little when Dirk holds out some strange loop of vegetable at him. There’s a moment of wavering, and then he snaps it out of the air, not entirely realizing that he’s just eaten from Dirk’s hand. He’ll have time to be embarrassed later- right now, he’s _hungry_.

For a second, Eridan makes a face like a cat that’s accidentally bitten a lemon. Then he chews a bit more, furrows his brow, and demandingly holds his hand out for another.

Adorable. Eridan goes through such a range of expression that it makes Dirk want to whip out his phone and film every little shift in expression as he tries all the different foods here.

He doesn't, though, instead picking up the knife on his counter and slicing another thin chunk of onion, holding the entire half-slice out to Eridan with a little, indulgent smile on his face.

Eridan glances for a little too long at the knife Dirk’s using, but he takes the onion and pops it in his mouth anyway, with much the same reaction.

And Dirk is.. watching him, with this weird little smile on his face that makes his stomach flop. He chews for another second, fighting the urge to ask for another piece, and self-consciously straightens his clothes as he stalks back over to the kitchen counter, wanting to lurk and brood until dinner’s ready.

_Onion is a yes, then._ Dirk thinks, amused, and turns back to the pan. "There's one last thing to introduce you to." Dirk says. "Eridan, meet Hal."

He gestures towards Hal's kitchen speaker. Honestly, it's an Alexa in red and black that's had all of it's software summarily ejected into the trash and Hal had spread a little tendril right into it.

"He's basically a person I created. He's all over the house and runs a bunch of shit. Say hello, Hal."

"Hello, Eridan." Hal's speaker lights up as he talks.

Eridan just looks bewildered when Dirk gestures to the little object sitting in the counter and refers to it like a person, but his whole body bristles and he lets out an involuntary hiss and jumps about a foot back as the little object starts _talking_. It doesn't have a mouth! That's not how any of this works!

He just stares at it for a second, fins wide, before trying to get his shoulders back to where they normally are instead of up around his ears. The empire had lots of technology much much more impressive then all of this, Cronus told him so. It's just that he's.. never seen it himself. Not that that matters. He's totally fine with. Technology.

"...Hello."

Dirk forces himself to hold back his grin. _Just_ like a fucking cat, holy shit. Eridan's spit and hiss and jump backwards- Dirk is going to save that memory _forever_ holy shit.

"Sorry if I startled you." Hal says. "Dirk has no tact."

"Hey." Dirk says mildly, flipping the burgers, but Hal talks over his protest.

"Welcome to the Strider household. You can ask me for things at anytime, talk to me, bitch to me, whatever." Hal says. "I'm in basically every section of the house."

Eridan continues to bristle when Hal talks again, but he settles down enough to look halfway composed, fussing with his hair until it’s at least partially back in place.

...There is a voice in a little object. And the voice isn’t just in the object; it’s everywhere in the house. It can hear him _all the time_. It probably heard.. all that nonsense, earlier, in the living room, that he’s not thinking about. Why do his fins feel hot? He is a disgrace to his bloodline.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He tries to sound dismissive, but he just ends up sounding kind of awkward and flustered, wandering over to a chair somewhere in the dining room area and trying his best to look like he’s not watching.

Dirk flips the stove off as Eridan retreats to the table. "Hal, remind me to start working on a saltwater filter tomorrow."

"Remember it yourself." Hal snarks back, but Dirk knows that when he looks at the list tomorrow, the filter will be on there.

Dirk plates the burgers and makes sure to put extra onion on Eridan's before he brings them over and sets one down in front of Eridan.

"Eat up." He says, plopping down. "If I remember correctly, they don't feed trolls anything before they sedate you to make sure you dont puke in transit, so I bet you're starving."

He picks up his own burger and takes a bite.

Eridan’s eyes follow Dirk throughout the rest of the dinner preparation, but he doesn’t deign him with a thank-you or an answer to his command, just picking the burger up and staring at it critically.

...Well. He is very hungry, now that he thinks of it. And there really wouldn’t be any reason for him to refuse it now, even though he’s vaguely embarrassed at the realization that he’s been playing somewhat nice since he woke up.

Well. That’s okay. Eating doesn’t mean Eridan’s giving up. It doesn’t mean Dirk wins. Man, this is a lot of mental gymnastics just to eat a hamburger, huh?

Eridan narrows his eyes at him, mouth pressed into a thin line, before taking a big bite of a burger and letting out an involuntary chirp of pleasure.

Eridan stares at the burger like it's going to bite him. Dirk has to hold back a smile- everything Eridan does is so fucking _adorable_ , from his suspicious glances at anything he doesn't trust (which is most things, honestly), to the expressive twitching of his fins, to the barely-contained glares he sends at Dirk.

Dirk is absolutely going to make him fall apart after this. He wants to see those expressions shatter into naked, helpless pleasure.

He can feel his cock throb at the idea, but doesn't let anything show, watching as Eridan takes a bite.

Ohhhh that noise was so _cute_. What the fuck. This is illegal. It has to be illegal, right? He's much too cute for this to be legal.

He gives Eridan a moment to chew and swallow before saying, "Hal can help you with any questions you have for anything in the house. He might give you shit about being treated like a tutorial bot, but he loves to hear the sound of his own voice so he'll talk forever if you let him."

"Dirk," Hal says, from the kitchen counter, "congratulations on the self burn. I am modeled _on you._ "

"Yeah, yeah." Dirk waves a little in Hal's direction. "Which one of us reads off Wiki pages when we're annoyed?"

"I can hardly _glare_ at you, now can I? Which is something that you are overly fond of doing.”

Dirk just huffs in amusement and shakes his head, taking another bite as he looks back to Eridan. "If he backtalks to you, it's how you know he likes you." He says. "You should see what he does to people he _doesn't_ like."

Eridan proceeds to scarf down the burger, only truly realizing how hungry he is when he tastes the food. It also serves as a convenient excuse to keep being rudely silent, which is always useful.

His eyes continue to flick back and forth between Dirk and Hal as they speak, fins still shivering slightly at the sound of his electronic voice, not entirely used to the quality of it in his ears. It puts him out of sorts, not having a face he can try to read as Hal talks, but this whole situation’s got him feeling out of sorts already.

Ah. Well. He’s already finished his food, and now he doesn’t have anything to do with this hands. He sits there for a second, fussing with the hem of his sweater, before getting to his feet and sweeping out of the room, carelessly leaving his dirty plate on the table. Dirk said this is his house too, didn’t he? He can go wherever he pleases.

Dirk watches as Eridan finishes and just rises to his feet and sweeps off.

He leans back in his chair, humming a little through a mouthful of burger. "Hal, keep an eye on him?"

"Of course." Hal says, as if it's a stupid question. Dirk just nods a little and finishes eating. He told Eridan not to leave a mess- and he left his dishes. Well, maybe he wasn't clear enough- but he'll make sure Eridan understands.

He eats slowly, finishing his food, then clears their plates and goes to wash them up.

While Dirk cleans up, he goes back upstairs and lingers around Dirk's office, idly poking at his desk but not actively snooping too much, more just trying to alleviate his boredom. After a moment, he plops down in Dirk's office chair and squints at the ceiling.

"Hal." It doesn't sound like a real name, to him. Not enough syllables. "Is it true that humans become incapacitated if you hit them on a certain spot on their elbows? I need to know this for reasons. Answer me."

"It is true that humans have a weak spot on their elbows, known as their 'funny bone'. It is a cluster of nerves that sits just above the bone of their elbow on the outer side of their upper arms." Hal replies smoothly. His speaker is sitting on one of the mid-sized bookshelves. "I hope you will not take advantage of this knowledge and attempt to use it on Dirk."

There's a highly amused note to his tone. Hal is definitely going to enjoy watching Eridan try and incapacitate Dirk by hitting his funny bone.

Eridan jumps a little when Hal’s voice comes from an unexpected place before squinting up at the speaker, continuing to idly spin in the chair. He squints at his elbow, trying to figure out where the equivalent of that would be on his arm, before making a face. “Why is it called a bone if it’s a nerve cluster? Ridiculous.” No response as to whether he’ll use it on Dirk, of course.

He kicks against the edge of Dirk’s desk again to send the desk chair spinning a little more, frowning at the ceiling. “Hal, can you let me into Dirk’s workshop?”

"No." Hal says, then offers an additional explanation. "The term 'funny bone' is a colloquial slang term for the nerve. The real name of the nerve is the Ulnar nerve."

Eridan simply asking to be let into the workshop is to be expected. It's if he makes an _attempt_ that Hal will alert Dirk.

Eridan makes a face at Hal’s speaker, disappointed but not all that surprised, before stopping the chair spinning and starting to rifle through Dirk’s desk in earnest. He probably won’t find anything genuinely useful, but at least it might be interesting, and it has the added bonus of leaving another annoying mess.

The lower couple of drawers on Dirk's desk are locked, but in the top couple of ones there's mostly boring-looking papers and a _lot_ of office supplies, as well as a busted model of one of Hal's speakers.

"You'll want to clean up the mess you're leaving before Dirk comes up." Hal says, sounding amused. He doesn't really care if Eridan messes up Dirk's desk, but he feels the need to warn him.

Dirk's done washing the dishes downstairs, so Hal takes the time to inform him that Eridan is currently rifling through his stuff in the office. Dirk starts heading upstairs.

Eridan just chirps dismissively at Hal, moving on from the desk but leaving the messed-up papers where they are. Idly playing with the hem of his skirt, he starts searching the room for other things to snoop through, opening cabinets and peering into bookshelves.

When Dirk enters the office and finds him, he’s just reaching for his computer- the very thing he was told very, very specifically not to touch.

Dirk opens the door and- yeah, that's honestly about what he expected when Hal said 'big fucking mess'. But Eridan is reaching for his computer and that is something he knows Eridan knows better about.

"Eridan." Dirk says. "You know better than that." He strides forwards to grab Eridan by the scruff of his neck.

Ah shit. Foiled again.

Eridan makes a cursory attempt at scrambling away, but Dirk's grabbing him firmly by the back of the neck before he can duck out of the way, and his hands are.. strong. There's some of the usual hissing and spitting and scratching, which, as usual, doesn't feel like much with how short his claws are cut, but he's doing his best to be a huge pain in the ass to haul.

"You can't fuckin' boss me around, trashblood! I'll look at whatever I want to!"

"No, you will not." Dirk says firmly, sweeps a pile of papers off of his desk, and thrusts Eridan down so that he's bending over it. "If you are going to be naughty and break rules, then you'll get punished."

He shifts his grip to be a little more comfortable- he doesn't want to put pressure on Eridan's delicate gills. He keeps his touch firm, though, pinning Eridan to the desk.

His other hand grabs the hem of Eridan's skirt and hikes it up, revealing his panty-clad ass.

"This is how punishments work, Eridan." Dirk says, his hand grabbing Eridan's ass and squeezing lightly. "You get ten strikes for every infraction." He squeezes again. "If you don't count them, the strike _doesn't count_ towards your punishment."

"So, lets see." Dirk hums for a moment. "You left your dishes dirty downstairs, you made a mess in my office, and you disobeyed my order to not touch my laptop. That's three, so you get thirty strikes."

He brings his hand up, then down, a light smack reverberating through the office as his hand makes contact. He waits to see if Eridan will count.

Eridan only gets more and more ornery as Dirk bends him over his desk and pulls his skirt up, face growing progressively more flushed as he squirms under the firm hand on his neck, before going still and letting out a shocked yelp at the sharp stick of being smacked. He wavers, a little, and very nearly opens his mouth to say "one-"

Which- no. He's not doing that. Childish punishment tactics aren't going to work for him! He has a pain tolerance like this dumbass couldn't dream of! He just sits there for a second, the petulence he's giving off nearly tangible, before he rears back and tries to kick at Dirk's shin. That'll definitely show him.

Eridan's foot makes contact with Dirk's shin and he lets out a little surprised grunt of pain.

His hand comes cracking down on Eridan's other cheek in response, strong and painful.

"Do you want another ten strikes?" Dirk asks, and slides his hand into the cleft between Eridan's legs, rubbing his thumb over Eridan's nook through his silken panties. "Because I will give you another ten if you do that again."

He only gets a few seconds to gloat over his small victory before Dirk slaps him again, and this time it _hurts_. He only barely bites back a shocked noise, presssing his face against the desk and growling quietly. Then, Dirk's hand presses right up againt his nook and rubs the soft fabric, and his voice picks up in a distressed warble, his leg twitching like he's making for another kick.

..Maybe he should just.. work with this. This time. Next time, he'll be able to turn the tables on Dirk, surely, but he should be able to tell when he's been (temporarily) beaten. He lies there, growling in the back of his throat and all wound up, for a few more seconds before grinding out a single word with all the venom in his voice that he can possibly manage. "..One."

Eridan grits out the number and Dirk gives a pleased little 'hm'.

"Good boy." He says, and gives Eridan three light swats, alternating cheeks. The clap of his hand on Eridan's ass feels good, the impact just firm enough for it to be felt, making Eridan's ass bounce slightly with each one.

"Little harder, now." He says, and gives Eridan a hard smack, one on the other ass, not as hard as the brutal one, but hard enough to send a jolt through Eridan.

He rubs over Eridan's ass soothingly after those two. "Do you feel like apologizing yet, Eridan?" He asks.

Eridan keeps on mumbling out the number of each blow as it comes, but it's laughably clear how humiliating he finds the whole arrangement, teeth grinding and blunt claws dug firmly into the wood of his desk. If only they weren't so blunted, then he could leave some nice marks.

He does jolt and whimper a little bit at the firmer smacks, his ass starting to feel warm and painfully tingling even when the hits pause. He cranes his hand up to try to press it over his hand, another growl building in his chest, before pausing when Dirk asks him if he's ready to apologize. He doesn't speak- he just bows his head forward, looking away from him, his back and legs tense with unspent frustration.

Eridan doesn't respond as Dirk slowly massages his ass, so he just pulls his hand back, taking Eridan's hand and bringing it up to press into the desk for a moment, giving his wrist a squeeze, a clear _keep your hand here._

Then he lets go and gives Eridan two quick slaps on one side of his ass, then the other. Light and glancing.

"A third done, Eridan." Dirk says. "You're being a good boy and taking it perfectly."

Time to start giving it to him for real. He alternates four quick, strong smacks across Eridan's ass, watching the violet flush on Eridan's grey skin grow deeper, stronger. He angles his hand and gives one on each side of the low curve of Eridan's ass, right against where his cheeks meet his thighs.

"More than half done." Dirk says, and then brings his hand _cracking_ across Eridan's hot flesh, wanting to hear him cry out. The impact is strong enough to sting Dirk's hand.

Eridan shivers as Dirk takes his hand and presses it down against the desk, deeply contemplating the opportunity to bite- but he keeps his teeth to himself for now. He can feel his face and ass both burning from the punishment, toes curling against the floor over and over again- _not_ because this is turning him on, no, absolutely _not_ -

(And he’s sure it isn’t. Of course it wouldn’t. But he’d come on Dirk’s cock even as he’d raged and protested. If he got wet, Dirk would be able to tell almost instantly, and the idea of that particular further humiliation has another confusing zing of arousal shooting through his belly.)

He’s a little lost in his own head when Dirk talks, so what exactly he’d said takes a second to sink in.

He’s being.. a _good_ _boy_. No. He can’t- he was just being strategic, wasn’t he? He’s not a good boy, he’s _not_.

This sudden rush of emotion happens to line right up with Dirk slapping him _hard_ across the ass, and his whole body lurches forward, an unsteady cry ripped out of his throat. Fins flared out and breathing heavy, he brings his foot down hard on Dirk’s, pushing back on his hand as he tries to force his way back to a standing position. “I’M NOT A GOOD BOY, FUCK YOU, I’M _NOT_ -”

Eridan shouts and threat displays and stomps on Dirk's foot and it's like Dirk moves on instinct. His hand comes slapping over the soft silk of Eridan's panties, smacking over his nook roughly before his fingers _squeeze_ , gripping Eridan by his most intimate, vulnerable place.

"That's another ten, Eridan." Dirk growls, trying to ignore the throbbing pain radiating up his foot. "Is that what you wanted? You were half done. And now-" He shifts his grip, squeezing a bit harder over Eridan's nook, "you're _not_."

He can feel the moisture under his finders- Eridan's getting wet from his spanking. He presses his middle finger forwards and- yep, there's the tip of his bulge, peeking out.

Dirk drops his voice an octave and growls, "you're _enjoying_ this, aren't you?"

Eridan doesn’t even get any time to enjoy his momentary rebellion before Dirk’s hand comes down and slaps him _hard_ , right on the nook, making him howl and squirm. He grabs him there, and he growls right in his ear, and Eridan’s mind goes blank for a second with an overwhelming feeling of _oh, I just fucked up._

He’s not bent over anymore, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t any less trapped. Dirk’s body boxes him in against the desk, and he’s still digging his fingers against Eridan’s sensitive nook, making him hiss and whine with discomfort. (Definitely just discomfort, nothing else whatsoever. Oh, god, his bulge just spilled another inch into his panties.)

“I don’t- don’t wanna be good, good boy means weak, ‘sgood because I failed-“ At least, that’s what he’s probably saying- his voice is hitching and unsteady, and he can barely get through a word without dissolving into uncontrollable angry clicks and whirrs.

And then, the inevitable happens. Dirk notices. Eridan’s tirade comes to an abrupt stop, and after a few more halfhearted attempts to struggle out of his grip, he goes still again at the low voice in his fin. He can feel himself ruining the panties Dirk had put on him, his bulge thick and fully extended against his thigh. The most he can manage is a small, frantic shake of his head, but they both know that’s not the right answer.

Eridan tries to protest, but his words are breaking up, breaking apart, but Dirk gets the gist of it. Eridan doesn't want to be good- because good means weak.

Well. He can work with that.

He puts his hand on the back of of Eridan's neck again, forcing him back down to bend over the desk.

"You are." Dirk says, forcing Eridan's legs open and tugging his skirt back up, then grabbing Eridan's bulge and giving it a long pull. "Which is it, Eridan?" He purrs. "Is it _being good_ that's making you this way?" He lets the tip of Eridan's bulge wind through his fingers, playing with it. "Or is it _being punished_ that's doing the trick?"

Eridan’s pinned facedown against the desk again before he can do much else about his situation, and Dirk’s barely touched him, really, but he can already feel his legs go weak and shaky with every new point of contact between them.

It isn’t _fair_. He’s trying so hard to be strong, to resist, but he’s never felt like this before. He’s never experienced a hunger to this extent, to the extent that it will make him lose a fight before it’s even started.

Dirk’s voice is rumbling in his ear, and his hand’s tugging his bulge, and his mind is racing. He wants to say something snappy and insulting, even if that might just get him in more trouble, but that’s not what comes out, unsteady and strained. “I- I don’t- I don’t _know_.”

Dirk's grip on the back of Eridan's neck goes gentle. "That's alright, kitten." He says, soft and pleased at Eridan's honesty. "We can find out together. I'll figure out what makes you tick and use it to pull you apart and make you feel so fucking good."

He gently plays with the tip of his bulge, twining it through his fingers over and over, giving Eridan a tiny little bit of pleasure.

"Talk to me, kitten." Dirk murmurs. "What do you feel when I say _good boy?"_

Eridan’s still trembling and blurry-eyed, and he feels like he can’t catch his breath, and he _hates_ this, and why does he like it so much when Dirk calls him kitten? He huffs quietly as his bulge curls against his fingers, hands still flexing against the desk in an attempt to get out some of this ever-coiling frustration.

He shouldn’t say anything. He shouldn’t tell him about how he’s feeling, that’s- why would he do that? He doesn’t want Dirk to find out what makes him _tick_ , that’s how he looses. Eridan still finds his mouth opening, despite all that.

Maybe humans have some sort of secret mind-affecting psionic power. Surely this is the only explanation.

“I- I feel like I surrendered by bein’ good. An’ I let you win without fightin’ the way I’m supposed to. Which is _not what’s supposed to happen.”_

Eridan is surprisingly open, and it makes Dirk smile fondly. He shifts his hand on Eridan's neck to gently stroke his fingers down the back of his neck, rhythmic and gentle.

"You can be good without it being a bad thing, Eridan." Dirk murmurs. "It feels nice to be like this, doesn't it?" He twists his hands to let Eridan's bulge twine around his wrist, gently squeezing at the base of the thick, slick muscle. "Submitting can be good, can make you _feel_ good, kitten."

Eridan squirms at the fingers on the back of his neck. He wants to relax, wants to rock his hips forward into Dirk’s touch and purr for him, but at the same time, he wants to wrench out of his grip and tear his throat out.

It’s so _confusing_. He’s never been more confused and conflicted in his life. He’s always been so sure of things before, but he feels so twisted-up and angry and- tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of not fighting.

He bucks his hips, a growl deep in his chest puttering out into a needy whine, and buries his face in his arms, voice choked-up and barely coherent. “..’s _dishonorable.”_

"Shh." Dirk shushes him gently, still petting slowly over the back of Eridan's neck. "Honor doesn't have to have anything to do with it." He murmurs. "It's just you and me here, Eridan."

He slides his fingers up into the back of Eridan's hair and scratches gently over his scalp, just a light reassuring touch.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, feeling good." Dirk says, letting go of Eridan's bulge and gently rubbing his knuckles along the fabric of Eridan's panties, pressing gently to give Eridan some light stimulation against his nook through the cloth.

A violent shudder goes down his spine, his fins fluttering and his breath growing short, as Dirk’s voice goes soft and he strokes his hand down the back of his neck, such a very vulnerable part of his body.

And it does feel good, is the thing. It feels really good, to be held down and touched and called pretty things, but even as the outer layers of pretense and learned pride are peeled away, there’s still the urge to fight written into his blood. It lingers, twisting inside his chest, a reminder of a civilization he never got to see.

He is violet. He is in charge. He does not surrender. He fights to the last. He takes no orders from anyone, except-

Except the superior. He obeys the superior. He loves the superior. He dies for the superior.

And he has no superior.

No matter how obvious the situation is, his trollish baseline mind refuses to accept another species as his superior. It just won’t click. The strain of all these contradictions in his head are making him unable to think of anything else, unable to think in the first place, and all he can do is squirm and cry out and shriek, noises melding from croons to threats and back again.

Eridan trembles under Dirk's touch and then he's digging his claws in and squirming and making noise after noise, a jumbled mess of pleading and angry.

That won't do. Progress is made, of course, but- Eridan needs to know where he stands, in the household.

Dirk clamps his hand back down on the back of Eridan's neck again, keeping him pinned. "You still have the rest of your punishment to take, Eridan." He says. "You were bad, so you got an extra ten. That means you're up to forty swats."

He pulls his hand away from Eridan's nook to massage over his flushed ass. "Do you remember how many you've had so far?" He asks.

Eridan goes limp for a second when Dirk’s hand shoves down on the back of his neck, his whole body twitching every few seconds. He still has more spankings to take, that’s right. The idea makes him whine and quail away, because his ass already _hurts_ (but he won’t break, not allowed to break-)

He goes still when Dirk’s hand leaves his nook, panting quietly as his hand pets over the sore, punished skin. He’s so worked up, he feels practically nonverbal, and the first few times he tries to answer it just comes out as a croak, but finally he manages a strangled and nigh-incomprehensible noise that, in equal likelihood, could have been “Fifteen” or “Fuck off.”

Dirk'll take it. He rubs Eridan's ass for a moment longer. "Five to go until you're halfway there again." He says softly and then lightly claps a hand against Eridan's ass, then again on the other.

He's being deliberately gentle, warming Eridan back up after the pause, then he lays a firm smack on each one again, hard enough to be loud in the small office space.

Eridan still seems to be mostly nonverbal, but he’s.. trying, it looks like. He lets out a quiet, cricket-like noise and a muffled yelp of pain with every smack, breath hitching uncontrollably, face pressed into the crook of his arm, but he doesn’t fight or squall or kick. He just takes it, even if it’s just because he’s too exhausted to be naughty.

Dirk pauses after nineteen, rubbing over Eridan's ass. "I'll forgive you for not counting this time." He says. "I won't drag this out. But you were naughty, Eridan which means that you still have to have the full forty."

Then he brings his hand down again and again, cracking across Eridan's ass, slapping with a rough, hard pace, barely giving Eridan a moment to breathe until he's spanked Eridan all the way up to thirty two, alternating cheeks with each blow.

Eridan's ass is _throbbing_ under Dirk's hand when he pauses, rubbing over his violet-flushed, abused skin.

Eridan doesn’t answer Dirk, although a tiny degree of the tenseness in his back unwinds when he’s told he won’t have to repeat the spanks he couldn’t count. (Not that the possibility bothered him. He can take it. He doesn’t care.)

He’s already so sore, and an irritating little voice in the back of his head says he’d be done already if he hadn’t been _bad_ , but then Dirk starts spanking him so hard that he can’t possibly be quiet anymore.

He cries out loudly with every stroke, his hands leaving his face to scrabble across the desk for something, _anything_ to hold onto, and pale violet tears start pouring down his face as his body’s wracked with sobs.

But, in that same wayback place in his mind, it still feels good. His bulge is almost entirely resheathed, but his nook is open and dripping, and this is the first time he hasn’t been able to agonize over doing the honorable thing since he came here. He doesn’t have to silently yell at himself for crying- he can just _do_ it.

He shivers when Dirk stops, eight short of the goal (he’s been counting in his head, still.) His ass feels like he’s been branded, and his head is spinning, but he still lets out a weak, mindless chitter and pushes back against his hand when he’s given a break.

Eridan takes the slaps so _beautifully_ that, for a moment, Dirk is tempted to make up an infraction so that he can give him even _more_.

No, that would be unfair. He won't do that, but- oh, he wants to keep Eridan like this, bent over and at his mercy, slapping at his ass to make him writhe and cry.

"Home stretch, kitten." Dirk murmurs, rubbing Eridan's ass soothingly, over the deep violet flush and throbbing skin. "These ones are going to hurt, but I know you can take it. You're strong, Eridan. I know you'll make it."

He gives Eridan a breath and then brings his hand down. He _snaps_ his hand across Eridan's ass, rough and hard, right across the center where the skin is tenderest, giving him two spanks on one cheek, then the other- then, spreading his fingers wide, he puts enough force to make his palm sting as he brings his hand down again, again one on each side.

" _Good_ job, Eridan, good job-" Dirk immediately soothes Eridan, massaging the poor, abused flesh. "Just two more, that's it kitten, you can do it. Nice and easy, I promise, almost done."

Eridan can only mindlessly croon, mind sinking right back into that burning, paralyzing confusion even as he thinks he’s about to snap out of it. Dirk thinks he’s strong. That feels good. But he doesn’t care what Dirk thinks of him, does he? He doesn’t like Dirk. Of course he doesn’t. (He does. He wants to be good. He wants to be good?)

And then, his mind goes blank with pain again, and all he can do is howl. Dirk switches it up often enough that he can’t possibly get used to it, his feet scrabbling against the hardwood.

Dirk’s hurting him, and then telling him he’s doing good, and touching him nice- is he good? Is this good? It’s not good! It’s very good. He feels like his brain is a computer and it’s been thrown in a bathtub. He can’t do anything.

Two more. He can take that. He’s almost done.

Dirk gives Eridan a moment to breathe and nudges his legs apart a little farther, forcing Eridan to arch his back up, present his ass a little more fully.

"Just two, kitten. You can do it." Dirk murmurs and lines his hand up.

He gives two quick, firm little smacks over Eridan's soaked nook, enough to sting- but not anywhere _near_ as rough or hard as the ones on his ass.

Eridan lets his body be directed, arches his back up just like he's meant to, and sucks in his breath as he feels Dirk pulling his hand back. The last two strikes land right across his nook, and he-

It wouldn't make sense, for him to cum from that. His bulge is only about an inch out, and he'd been in some strange floating state of arousal despite all his efforts not to be, but he certainly hadn't been close. It doesn't feel like an orgasm, it doesn't have any of the release of tension that he'd normally associate with one, but his nearly-hidden bulge still throbs and floods his panties with a modest amount of purple cum as he scrabbles at the table. Chest heaving, he presses himself flat against the desk and tries to catch his breath, shaking from the unexpected and entirely ruined orgasm.

"Well done, Eridan." Dirk immediately soothes him, letting go of the back of his neck to stroke his fingers gently along the skin instead. "You took your punishment so well, good job. That was beautiful, kitten."

He settles his hand over Eridan's nook, feeling the _soaked_ fabric, and rubs small, gentle circles through the cloth.

"You were a little bit fussy but it's alright- it happens, it was your first punishment so I'm not surprised." Dirk murmurs. "But you settled right down and got through it- you did really well, Eridan. Do you want me to make you feel good, now?"

Eridan is finally, finally done, and Dirk is.. still talking. Using that nice soft prettysound voice, the one that makes him want to lie down and roll over no matter how wrong some distant part of his brain tells him it is. For a second, all he can do is pressing his face against the smooth surface of the desk, breath hitching uncontrollably. He did his best- not to be good, but to say no, I'm not good, I don't want to be good-

And Dirk is forgiving him. Dirk tells him he did well. He feels split down the middle. He wants to melt, say _thank you, yes_ , and he wants to howl and claw and bite until he doesn't feel so soft anymore.

He doesn't end up getting to make the decision- his body makes it for him. His hips jut back against Dirk's hand, grinding his overwhelmingly slick, empty nook against his hand, and even he doesn't know if the noise he's making is a growl or a purr.

Dirk chuckles softly as Eridan cants his hips back and gives a deep, raspy noise- he'll take care of his pet.

"I'll take care of you, kitten." He murmurs and slips Eridan's panties down, pushing them down as far as he can get them before sinking two fingers into Eridan's _soppingly_ wet nook, pumping them slowly in and out of him. "You don't have to worry, don't have to fight, don't have to do anything but _feel_ right now." He says, sliding his hand up Eridan's neck to gently scratch through his hair, over his scalp.

"Isn't it nice?" Dirk murmurs, keeping his tone so soft and gentle as he slips a third finger in to nestle with the others in Eridan's cool, sucking folds. "Being taken care of, just feeling _good_?"

Dirk laughs, quiet and not unkind, and the part of Eridan's mind that's still throwing a shitfit about this whole situation decides to be quiet for a little bit. He's still almost entirely limp against the desk, and he feels the wet fabric of his panties being tugged down his thighs, keeping his legs tangled together. Then, there are nice, rough fingers inside of him, and he lets out a low and continuous chitter like a forest full of cicadas.

He tips his head back into Dirk's scratches a little, as much as he can despite how sleepy and immovable he feels. More inside him now, and he's so wet, it's making so much noise, but he feels good. He doesn't respond to Dirk's questions, but after a moment, he lets out a slightly strangled moan. No growling, no hissing, just an absolutely whorish noise of pleasure, his legs trying to shift apart before being tugged back together by the panties still around his knees. It feels really good. He thinks he might be drooling.

Eridan is making such pretty, _pretty_ noises and Dirk loves it, loves how soft he's going, loves how malleable and submissive his pretty violet pet is being. He almost doesn't even want to fuck him right now, just wants to see him writhe and chirp and chitter and make any other number of beautiful noises on Dirk's fingers.

Almost.

He twists and fucks his fingers in and out of Eridan gently, over and over, pressing along his walls until he can't take it anymore and has to pull them back. Eridan is nuzzling up into his hand like a cat- how appropriate- and Dirk is so fucking hard it aches.

"I've got you, kitten." Dirk murmurs. "Gonna make you feel so good, Eridan." He pushes his pants down, getting his dick out, and guides the tip of his along Eridan's wet folds, just rubbing for a moment before pressing slowly into his pet's cool body, still scratching lightly over his scalp. "Feels so good, kitten. So wet and perfect." Dirk breathes.

Eridan is drunk as a lord on the feeling of Dirk's fingers inside him, rocking back against them and crooning so pretty and slutty, just how he was told to- and then the fingers are _gone_. That's the worst thing, definitely. He nearly pushes himself up, legs shaky and mind fuzzy with need- and then, Dirk's cock rubs up against his nook, and starts to shove inside him.

Wasn't there some reason for him to reject this, earlier? He can't remember right now. It's only enough to make him whine in the back of his throat, eyes widening and hands scrabbling nervously, before Dirk scratches down his scalp and gets him to relax again, and- it feels good. He likes it. Dirk's telling him he's good. Eridan whimpers in pleasure and squeezes down around him, his nook clenching uncontrollably, wanting to keep Dirk inside him and never let him go.

Eridan whines nervously as Dirk presses in, but he settles right down again, squeezing around him in a way that tugs pleasure right through Dirk's gut.

"Fuck." Dirk sighs, one hand settles on Eridan's hip to keep him still as Dirk slides in to the hilt. "So fucking good, kitten, doing so perfect." He slides his hand around to cup over Eridan's forehead and smooth his hair back, tilting his head up. "Wanna hear your voice, Eridan, lemme hear those noises."

He rocks gently, just an inch in and out, Eridan tight around him the best of sensations.

Dirk holds him down to his desk in such a gentle way, but Eridan knows he still couldn't move even if he wanted to. He still isn't even beginning to get used to how _hot_ Dirk's skin feels against his, making his mind go fuzzy and unfocused even more than it already is.

There's a nice hand against his face, smoothing back over his forehead and his scalp, sweeping the air out from his blurry eyes. Eridan croons again as he spreads his legs wide, pale violet drool running down his chin. With all the resistance thoroughly smacked out of him, he's free to realize that this is exactly what he's meant for- being under Dirk, taking his cock and making pretty noises.

Too _cute_ , too cute, too cute- Eridan is too cute and it just makes Dirk want to pull him apart, to find all of his soft, vulnerable parts and devour them whole, until he's just Dirk's, only Dirk's- he's forever and ever Dirk's and there's _nothing Eridan can do about it._

Until he's the only thing in Eridan's life, his master, his _everything_.

Dirk gives a pleased little groan as he starts rocking a little harder, fucking into Eridan with long, rolling thrusts, trying to hit every little ridge and bump inside of his nook.

"Being so _good_ , Eridan." Dirk croons, taking his hand away from Eridan's forehead and sinking it back into his hair, guiding his head back down to the desk and pressing his forehead into it. His other hand slides up Eridan's spine under his shirt- a smooth, dragging touch, just wanting to feel more of Eridan, feel his skin and body and the tensing of his muscles under his hand. "You're doing so good kitten, being my good pet. Just let go, it's alright, no one here'll hurt you, no one here'll judge you- go ahead and cum when you want, it'll feel so good."

Eridan feels the thrusts speed up a little and chokes on his moans, throaty noises spilling out of his noise with every movement of Dirk’s hips. It still _hurts_ , the feeling of warm skin smacking into his ass enough to make him hiss in pain, but he thinks he’d break down sobbing if Dirk stopped now.

His hand’s in his hair, tugging it, pressing his face right down against the desk again, and Eridan groans loud as anything, nook fluttering in arousal. This is right. This is perfect. He’s being used, he’s being put in his place, where he’s supposed to be, _under his master-_ (There’s a little feeling like a static shock in his brain at that thought, no, not master, but it’s swept away like something dropped in a rain-swollen river) and it feels so good. He’s going to be taken care of.

His hips start rocking more desperately until he’s very nearly fucking himself on Dirk’s cock, moaning low and growly for him, trying to get the slightest amount more friction against his bulge.

Dirk increase his thrusts to match Eridan's rocking, finding a rhythm and using it to fuck into Eridan. "That's it, that's it." Dirk murmurs. "So fucking good, kitten, so good- you're doing so good, taking my dick so perfectly, your body knows what it needs-"

He grabs Eridan's hip again, thrusting a little harder, pressing his dick in all the way with each shove, knowing that the force of it is shoving against Eridan's tender ass, against the flushed, abused skin.

"You want more?" Dirk asks, running his fingers through Eridan's hair. "Lemme hear you, Eridan, I want to hear that pretty voice of your, those pretty noises- I'll fuck you even harder if that's what you want-"

Everything keeps speeding up, getting harder, and- this is the second time he’s ever had anything inside his nook, not that he remembers that now. This makes him feel stretched, sore, but having a big human cock pounding away at his insides is so overwhelmingly, perfectly _right_ that he can’t even conceive of wanting this to stop.

And he does want more. He’s getting pushed closer and closer, and he just wants _more_ , wanting to grab every scrap of pleasure he’s being given and dig his claws in deep.

“Hhhnh, uh, uh _, uh, uh, uh-”_ He’s a loud troll in the first place, but when Dirk tells him to, he completely fucking cuts loose. His wailing and moaning and grunting is only barely muffled by the way his face is squished against the desk, the rocking of his hips becoming more and more frantic, bulge squirming down to half wrap around Dirk’s cock even as it fucks him. “Mmn- _please_ , ‘s- yeah, _fuck_ -”

Eridan's noises are free, unashamed, begging- how could Dirk do anything but _give_ it to him? Give it to his pet, to his perfect, _perfect_ violet? His bulge is trying to wrap around Dirk's cock as he fucks Eridan so Dirk pauses in his thrusts to shift his stance, letting Eridan's hip go to reach around and tug Eridan's bulge free, letting it twine through his fingers instead, giving them something to wrap around.

"You got it, kitten, I'll give it to you." Dirk murmurs, and then he's leaning forwards, putting his weight on Eridan to press his chest into the desk, and _fucking_ into him, a sharp, brutal snapping of his hips, he knows if his desk didn't weigh a metric fuck ton it would be shifting, would be skidding across the floor from how hard he's slamming his hips into Eridan, as deep as they'll go- the force of it is practically like spanking, with how roughly their hips are colliding.

"That's it, Eridan, that's it, I've got you, so good for me, so perfect-" Dirk keeps up a crooning litany of filth as he fucks, his other hand grabbing the far edge of his desk for leverage to fuck into Eridan. "Your pretty nook sucking me in so good, squeezing around my dick, you love this, love getting fucked, you can't lie to me, your bulge is completely unsheathed, it feels so good to _be_ good, doesn't it? And you are, you're being so good, kitten-"

Eridan whines and squirms when he stops thrusting for a second, but his eyes go wide when he feels a hand reach around to squeeze his bulge, his voice breaking in the middle of a moan to frantically fuck into Dirk’s grip.

And then, the air is all but squeezed right out of him, because Dirk is _on top of him now_ , and he can’t move, he’s trapped- but the feeling that would have been panic before, maybe, only makes his bulge thrash harder and curl around his fingers. Dirk’s holding him down, holding him there so he can use his nook so roughly and he can’t do a thing about it, and he can’t imagine anything better.

Well, he can’t until Dirk starts talking into his ear. His legs kick between Dirk’s, not out of an urge to escape but because he’s so overloaded that he can’t control the way his body moves, and he screams at the top of his lungs, the noise jolted out of him choppily by every single thrust.

Then, suddenly, Eridan’s already blissfully-tight pussy clenches so hard that Dirk can barely move inside it, and his bulge pulses hard in his hand, splattering purple all over his belly and the front of Dirk’s desk. Eridan howls and sobs, squirming through the orgasm that seems to last forever, even if it’s only a few seconds, before shivering violently and going entirely limp.

His pet is _wailing_ so fucking loudly and sobbing and thrashing as Dirk fucks into him roughly, but it's _good_ noises- so Dirk doesn't pause for a single moment as he fucks hard. Eridan's nook is so fucking perfect, wet and cool and sucking him in and Dirk's pretty sure he's addicted, pretty sure that he'll never get enough, he wants to dump load after load into Eridan and keep him plugged up, stuffed full of his cum like a good little troll should be.

Eridan _clenches down_ , though, pulling Dirk in and not letting him move more than an inch, his muscles working and rippling over Dirk's dick as Eridan sobs and cums, howling like a desperate beast as he gushes his fluid everywhere.

The feeling of it is too fucking much- Dirk grinds through Eridan's orgasm, groaning and working his dick as much as he can until Eridan loosens and he can start fucking again, chasing his own pleasure.

"F-uck, so perfect, well done kitten, that was beau- beautiful-" Dirk breathes, "such a goo-od boy, cumming so- ha, so perfect on my dick, giving me your- voice like I told you to-"

He slams home with a deep groan, pumping his hot cum into Eridan's nook, thick ropes pumping into him with each grind of Dirk's hips until Dirk finally stills, panting.

Fuck, what a mess. The internet wasn't kidding when it recommended having buckets on hand for troll jizz to get caught in.

"Well done, Eridan." Dirk breathes, running his hands over Eridan, petting down his spine, rubbing over his hips, even as Dirk keeps his slowly-softening dick inside Eridan. It feels good, the cool slickness around him- fuck, once he's broken in Dirk is _absolutely_ having Eridan warm (cool?) his dick. He leans in and presses a kiss to the back of Eridan's neck. _"Good boy."_ He breathes, deliberately putting a warm approval into his voice.

Eridan scrabbles at the table again, fucked-out noises punched from his throat as Dirk keeps working his cock into his clenching nook, still praising him so loving and dirty. Then, he feels Dirk throbbing inside him, slamming as deep as he can get, and he shuffles his legs apart with a wanton croon as he feels warm, sticky cum fill his nook.

It makes him feel.. dirty, to have Dirk get off into him like this. Like he’s being ruined, marked as Dirk’s property. It’s a good kind of dirty, though, the kind that makes him croon and clench down in waves, rocking his hips back like he’s trying to milk Dirk of his orgasm.

And then, the fucking is over, but Dirk is still warm and heavy on his back, touching and praising and kissing him. His mind is a blank expanse, and all he can do is gently roll his hips back onto his soft cock with a purr. Yes. He’s a good boy. He’s Dirk’s good boy. That’s exactly what he wants to be.

Dirk pets and kisses over Eridan as Eridan purrs, soft and submissive. He has no doubts that Eridan will snap right to being fussy when he's recovered- but having Eridan in his hands like this, all soft and tender and relaxed is so fucking _perfect_ and beautiful.

Dirk's cock is soft and throbbing inside of Eridan's nook, but feeling him cant his hips and squeeze around it feels good, a bone-deep pleasure that yanks at him. He could probably go for another round, but- then he'd probably pass out and be useless for the rest of the day, so- better not.

Besides, they're both messy as fuck.

"Let's get cleaned up, Eridan." Dirk murmurs, pressing yet another kiss to the back of Eridan's neck. Regretfully, he pulls out of Eridan's nook and guides Eridan to stand up, curling an arm around him to help keep him upright. After a moment he reconsiders and turns Eridan so that Dirk can pick him up, one arm under Eridan's ass, guiding his arms to be around Dirk's neck, his legs around Dirk's waist.

"How's a bath sound?" Dirk asks, kissing at Eridan's jaw, but he doesn't wait for a response as he carries Eridan out of his office and to the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Dirk sits Eridan on the edge of his bathtub. It's a nicely sized one- there's more than enough room for both of them.

Dirk starts the water and then starts undressing Eridan, working his blouse and sweater up and off, then sinking to his knees to gently work his stockings off, pressing kisses to Eridan's inner thighs as he does so. They're soaked with genetic fluid, which has to be uncomfortable.

He gets Eridan to lift up slightly to slip his skirt and panties off- and then it's just Eridan, in nothing but his collar, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His bulge is all but retracted again, his nook still messy and wet- and Dirk gives a momentary idea to the idea of leaning in and cleaning him up with his tongue.

He discards the idea after a moment- maybe another time.

So he pulls back to get undressed himself, folding and setting his shades aside, shucking his clothes off efficiently and dropping them on the floor carelessly.

Then, he settles into the bathtub and helps Eridan in, wrapping his arms around Eridan's waist as the troll leans against his chest, his head on Dirk's shoulder (gotta watch those horns, after all). Dirk presses a kiss to Eridan's temple.

"You were very bad earlier, Eridan." He murmurs against Eridan's sweat-damp temple, relaxing as the warmth of the water seeps into his muscles. "But you were very good after you were punished. That makes me happy to see that, to see how good you can be."

Everything he's read (okay, all the perverted sites he's read) has indicated that trolls can cum without their bulges out, through a number of different ways. Dirk's going to reward Eridan with a good, old-fashioned fingering.

"This is what happens when you're good, kitten." Dirk breathes, running a hand down Eridan's belly, ghosting over the space where his bulge extends from, sliding two fingers over Eridan's nook. "You get to feel good, you get rewarded by feeling so good."

As a seadweller, Eridan's body is prepared for mating in and out of water. This means that his nook is still slick, the fluid staying congealed even in the bath, so Dirk can run his fingers through it and press two of them right back into Eridan's nook.

Eridan can’t help letting out a little disappointed croon when Dirk pulls out, feeling so empty as cum starts to run down his sticky thighs, but over the next few minutes he doesn’t really do much of anything besides stare into the middle distance and purr. He looks like he’s asleep with his eyes open, blank and contented, no lights on inside.

Dirk’s right, of course- he hasn’t managed to truly break him yet, but that doesn’t mean he can’t bend him quite severely. He tends to snap back into shape given some time, but it’s wearing on him, slowly but surely- it won’t be long until Dirk hits upon the thing that will make his mind shatter completely. Then, he’ll be able to stick the pieces back together however he’d like.

For now, though, he clings to the front of Dirk’s shirt as he carries him to the bathroom, burying his face in his chest and breathing his scent in deeply without entirely meaning to. He sits there as Dirk undressed him like a doll, thighs still giving an occasional overstimulated twitch, before the last vestiges of tension completely melt out of him as he’s tugged into the water.

Oh, right, he’d been bad earlier, hadn’t he? He quails a little, butting his head gently against Dirk’s chin in an attempt to placate him, before going limp and loose once more as he’s told he’d been good.

Good. Good, good, good. He’s a good kitten. He spreads his legs for his hand, nook still messy with his own slick and still full of Dirk’s cum, and lets out a quiet sigh of contentment as he rocks his hips up into his touch, face slack with lazy pleasure.

Eridan nuzzles at him like a cat and Dirk grins. Yeah, nickname solidified. He kisses at Eridan's temple again and gently rocks his fingers in Eridan's nook. He wants to reward Eridan for being good, for settling down and taking his dicking like a good boy.

"There we go, kitten." Dirk murmurs. "Feels real nice, doesn't it? Getting your pretty nook fingered open by me? By your owner? I love hearing those cute noises you make, those chirps and clicks and every little gasp and moan."

He kisses Eridan's cheek, just pumping his fingers nice and slow.

"So I want to make you feel good all the time, want to have you make those noises for me as much as possible." He continues. "Don't you want that, kitten? Don't you want to be good and feel good and make me happy?"

Eridan is as blissed out as he can get, letting out the occasional soft moan or chirp as he feels Dirk's fingers rubbing against the insides of his slick nook, pressing his cheek against his chest with a nice loud purr. If he had more energy, he thinks he'd be mewling all loud and bucking his hips up, begging for more, harder, _rougher_ -

But he's so tired. Tired in a nice way. This is perfect, just like this, lying here in the nice warm water with his owner making him feel so good. He's vaguely aware of the possibility of another orgasm, seeming far away as it slowly creeps up on him, but he's not all that distressed about getting to it. He's good. He makes his owner happy. Isn't that what he'd wanted all along? Isn't it?

A pulse of nervousness and anger shoots through him for a second, but it's gone so quick that it would be difficult for Dirk to even catch it, as he goes right back to nuzzling Dirk and moaning sweetly.

Dirk feels Eridan go tight around him for a moment and then go right back on to being relaxed again, and chuckles softly.

"Yeah, I know." He breathes, and twists his hand so that he can slide a third finger in. The angle is a little awkward, but Eridan is purring and moaning so sweetly that Dirk'll get over it, deal with any cramps he gets. This is about Eridan, right now.

"I know, it feels so good, doesn't it." Dirk murmurs. Eridan is so submissive and relaxed-

well.

No better time to give it a try.

He shifts them a little so that Eridan is a touch more angled across his lap (which is also a relief to his wrist- he can fuck his fingers in deeper now), and leans in to kiss Eridan gently, pressing their mouths together as he pumps his three fingers in and out of his pet's perfect, greedy nook.

Eridan's eyes blink open a little wider as a third finger slides in, making his thoroughly-used nook twinge a little, but he's his so relaxed that it doesn't hurt at all. Just.. full. Not as full as he was when he had his master's nice big cock inside of him (His nook clenches again, fuzziness like corrupted code flitting through his brain, but it feels _good_ , feels so good, so he shoves it down further, buries it so the nervous angry feeling will take longer to come back. Why would he ever want to feel like that?)

He lounges back across Dirk's lap, lips parted to let out whatever noises his mouth feels like making, before he lets out a quiet, surprised hum as he's kissed. Oh, that's nice. He likes that a lot. Eyes slipping closed, he actually kisses back this time, if somewhat lazily, purring like an engine as his slick violet pussy is filled so nicely with his master's fingers.

Eridan stays relaxed, stays purring and calm, so Dirk figures he's pretty safe to keep kissing him. He gives a little, pleased noise as he works his fingers inside Eridan, his other hand curling around Eridan's shoulders to help keep him up.

He slides his tongue out and kisses Eridan deep, licking his way into Eridan's mouth, running his tongue carefully along Eridan's sharp teeth. Dirk is glad the breeders didn't blunt them- the idea makes his stomach turn. Claws, sure, but _teeth_? That kind of shit can permanently fuck a troll over.

But it means he does need to be careful, since one wrong move and Eridan can literally bite his tongue off. With Eridan in this state, he's not worried about it, but there is a little thrill of danger that runs down his spine at just feeling their sharpness.

Eridan licks against Dirk's tongue, purring nice and steady, but doesn't move much as to keep from accidentally scraping his lip. His mind drifts back to the breeders, absently. He'd seen some prospective customers, and even some of the employees, with the other trolls before. He'd been valuable for being a virgin, and nobody had wanted to get near his teeth, but he'd watched out of the corner of his eye- a breeder holding an olive's head and crooning as they gagged around a cock being worked deeper into their throat, some yellowblood who'd been broken at the facility, one of his new humans humping his face while the other fucked his ass. He'd watched with mixed horror and fascination as the troll had eagerly swallowed load after load of cum.

He thinks about the possibility of Dirk pushing his head down onto his cock, making him taste his cum and the salt of his skin, and a shiver runs through his body, his nook squeezing. He hadn't thought he'd be able to get hornier after he'd been so thoroughly fucked out, but he finds his hips rocking needily into Dirk's hand, crooning and squriming in his grip.

Dirk kisses Eridan, consuming his mouth completely as Eridan starts rocking his hips up, clearly wanting more. He chuckles softly, pulling his tongue back to press soft, chaste little kisses to Eridan's mouth.

"My beautiful pet." Dirk murmurs and crooks his fingers, grinding them along Eridan's wall, searching for those ridges that'll make him see stars. "You're so needy and wanton- I love that, love seeing you like this."

He kisses Eridan again and again- greedy now that he can without fear, wanting to memorize the feeling of his mouth, the taste of his spit, the press of their lips- Dirk wants to swallow his croons and mewls and every last gasp that'll fall from his mouth.

"You think you can cum again, kitten?" Dirk breathes. "You think you can cum like this, on my fingers, in my lap?"

Eridan squirms and chirps, open-mouthed and panting heavily, as Dirk fucks his fingers into Eridan's nook over and over again. His eyes go unfocused and his brow furrows as his fingers drag over his walls, making his quiet noises raise in volume again and again until he's muffling demanding moans against his chest.

He doesn't even see his orgasm coming, this time. He's just lying in Dirk's lap, feeling wonderful, when suddenly his legs go tense and his body shudders violently, nook gushing slick. Impulsively, he leans up to kiss Dirk as he cums, licking eagerly into his mouth with all the grace of an over-affectionate animal.

Eridan gets louder and louder and then hes moaning and shaking as he cums again- and he leans up to _kiss Dirk-_ which, wow, Dirk did not see that coming.

So Dirk kisses and grinds him through his orgasm, so goddamn pleased at Eridan's responses, feeling like he could fucking _purr_ in delight. He can't though, so he just gives a pleased hum as Eridan kisses him, as he squirms and shakes and moans.

"Good boy." Dirk breathes against Eridan's lips. Should he try for a _third?_ He wants to see how far he can push Eridan, how far his body will _let_ Dirk go, wants to know what Eridan can endure and take and be okay to take. Eridan's so submissive and malleable right now- Dirk might be a fool to _not_ take the opportunity to explore Eridan's body and his limits.

Eridan goes lax again when the aftershocks start to wind down, arms and legs sprawling out across the bathtub, relaxed and contented. He's still too thoroughly broken at the moment to be worrying about a thing in the world, and he's just been given a very, very nice orgasm by his loving master, so why shouldn't he be happy?

Still, he looks on the edge of passing out in Dirk's arms again, tired and loose-limbed from the warm water. He's expecting Dirk to just wrap him up and let him rest, not try to wring another orgasm out of his sore, overstimulated nook- but, of course, it doesn't entirely matter what Eridan expects, does it?

Eridan's relaxed and sleepy, so pliable and trusting in Dirk's arms. Dirk hums a little, not moving his fingers, just letting them rest in Eridan's nook, giving it something to just suckle on. He brushes a kiss to Eridan's mouth.

"So fucking perfect." Dirk murmurs, and gives a fond little hum, kissing Eridan again. He's caught between just letting Eridan relax and be sleepy and pliable in his arms- and pushing him harder, possibly making him pass out.

"You think you can do one more?" He settles on asking. "It's okay to say no, kitten." He twitches his fingers, just a tiny bit, to illustrate what he means.

Eridan just sleepily blinks at him, not seeming to comprehend his words, but he whines and squirms when Dirk begins to move his fingers again.

Then, Dirk speaks again, and it makes it half of the way through to his brain this time. He.. can say no? But saying no was something he did when he was being naughty!

Well, if his master’s telling him that he should make the decision, he supposes he should do as ordered. It still takes him a little too long to actually get anywhere, decisionmaking-wise, before he wiggles his hips and squirms until Dirk’s fingers fall out of him.

Instead, he reaches up and paws at Dirk’s cheeks with his blunt nails, crooning and trying to tug him down again. He’s really very tired, but he’d like some more kisses. Those were nice.

Eridan takes long enough to consider the question that Dirk almost asks again- but then Eridan is shifting and squirming until Dirk's fingers slip free. That's an obvious enough answer, so Dirk lets Eridan pull him down into more kisses.

"Good boy." He murmurs, and shifts them again, wrapping both of his arms around Eridan so that he can support him completely. "Thank you, kitten, that was good of you to make that choice." He presses more kisses to Eridan's mouth, the heat of the water making him feel lazy and pleased.

Eridan really is so fucking perfect. Dirk is so goddamn lucky- Eridan's basically exactly what he imagined when he set out to get a violet. Fussy, but settles right on down when Dirk wants him too.

"You don't have to worry about a thing, Eridan." Dirk murmurs. Still pressing gentle kisses to Eridan's mouth. "I'll take care of you."

Dirk's absolutely right. He doesn't have to worry about a thing. He just has to do just what Dirk tells him, and that always seems to lead him right to feeling happy and safe, eventually. He lets those last vestiges of thought leak right out of his brain as he settles down and slowly kisses back, movements growing slower and slower as the warm water and the multiple orgasms drag him closer and closer to unconsciousness.

Finally, Eridan gently tugs away from the kiss to rest his head against his shoulder, chirping and curling up smaller in his lap. He's fading fast, and while he'd be perfectly happy to just sleep here, Dirk probably doesn't want to spend the night in a cold tub with a seadweller sitting on him, so they'll have to move eventually.

As Eridan pulls away and chirps softly to curl in Dirk's lap, Dirk runs his hand over Eridan's spine gently.

"Here, kitten." He murmurs, and gently shifts Eridan off of his lap. "Lemme clean you up." He settles Eridan down and retrieves the soap and washcloth, working them up into a sudsy mess.

He has a _responsibility_ , after all, to take care of his pet. That includes making sure he's clean. He starts scrubbing Eridan down gently, starting with his arms.

There's something methodical and almost... _worshipful_ , about cleaning Eridan up. Just the act of taking care of another being in such an intimate, close manner- it makes Dirk's heart pound.

Eridan does whine a bit when he realizes that he's not going to get whisked off to bed, but he settles right back down again to be cleaned, his soft purring ramping up and up in volume until Dirk can feel the buzzing feeling of it through his skin.

From the way he'd been acting before, and the utter bliss on his face now, it's fairly obvious that nobody's ever really shown Eridan quite this level of attention and affection before now. Sure, he's wound up tight enough that he'll try and maim most people who try- the only way Dirk had been able to do this was beating his ass and fucking him until he couldn't think straight enough anymore- but even then, the troll seems so happy and calm for once.

Maybe, soon, Dirk will be able to do this again, and Eridan will give himself into it fully.

Eridan's purring just gets louder and louder as Dirk washes him. Dirk toys with the idea for a moment of washing Eridan's hair- but then discards it, saving the idea for another time.

Once he's got Eridan cleaned up, Dirk lets him relax as he scrubs himself down quickly, then, with the both of them clean, he shifts Eridan right back into his lap, letting Eridan curl against him.

Dirk relaxes into the hot water, stroking his fingers along Eridan's spine. He just wants to enjoy this, savor this- just relax here with Eridan until the water is cooled off.

It's the simplest thing to just pet Eridan and breathe nice and slow, the weight of the violet curled in his lap a comforting feeling.

But, eventually, the water does cool off and Dirk pulls the plug. He lifts Eridan out of the tub and dries both of them off, his towels soft and luxurious.

He lifts Eridan up again, carrying him out of the bathroom. "One more question, kitten." Dirk murmurs, pausing in the landing space. "Do you want to be in my bed or your own?"

Eridan’s nearly fallen asleep when Dirk lifts him in his arms and dries them off- there are a few frustrated chirps at being woken, but he settles down soon enough, smushing the side of his face against Dirk’s chest with a deafening purr.

It takes him a moment to process the question, but after a second he clings closer to Dirk, digging his fingers into his shoulder. Of course he wants to be in his bed, he doesn’t want to stop being held. He can’t remember for the life of him why he ever wanted to do anything else.

Eridan clings to him and Dirk hums softly in response. "Alright." He murmurs, and nudges his door open. He carries Eridan in and kicks the door shut again, crossing the room to his bed. "Being such a good boy for me, Eridan." Dirk soothes as he climbs onto the bed.

He settles Eridan down onto the bed and then lies down next to him on his back. One arm curls underneath Eridan's shoulder to hold him close.

"You were very good for me, Eridan." Dirk murmurs, reaching over and smoothing Eridan's hair back with his other hand. "I'm very pleased, kitten."

Eridan stretches out indulgently as he's set down in Dirk's bed, rolling his shoulders back with a wide-mouthed yawn that shows off every tooth in his mouth before curling up happily against his side, intent on soaking up all the body heat he can. He trills quietly at the petting to his hair, but before Dirk's even done telling him that he's been good, Eridan is out cold, snoring quietly through his gills.

Dirk chuckles as Eridan sinks into sleep. He presses a kiss to Eridan's hair and grabs his phone. It's not anywhere near his usual sleeping time, so he'll fuck around for a while on his phone until he falls asleep.

Or until he gets so antsy that he gets up again. It's kind of a tossup, really.

Delightfully, though, he ends up falling asleep for once. Maybe it's Eridan's presence, his weight and breathing that lulls Dirk to sleep, or maybe it's the really good orgasm he had, but either way he finds himself falling asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

That night, Eridan sleeps the soundest he has in his life. He barely dreams, and when he does, it's soft and muted and barely-present, everything pleasant and stretched-out.

When he wakes up, nothing is wrong, and he stretches a little with a crack of his joints and a quiet yawn before going stock-still, the memories from the night before rushing back in. His sense of peace and safety is replaced by anger, confusion, and shame- shame that he succumbed, and shame at how Dirk's arms around him still make him want to go back to sleep.

He blinks his eyes open and stares at the sleeping human, his breath picking up slightly. His eyes are closed. He's vulnerable. He's so close. It would be so, so easy to lean forward, close his mouth around Dirk's windpipe, and _crush_.

It would be the smart thing to do. Wouldn't it?

He thinks about his ancestor. Would it win back his approval, to see him kill a sleeping human after fucking him and sleeping in his bed? That isn't a warrior's death, but the odds are stacked against him. Maybe he would be proud of him, still, despite the dishonor.

He doesn't do anything. He just stares, fins set back, before scrambling backwards out of the bed, wriggling from Dirk's arms and dashing from the room. It takes him a second, distressed as he is, to remember which is his room, but it's not long until he's slamming the door shut behind him.

When he's done that, he flops down on the bed and buries his face in a pillow, screaming in frustration into it. None of this makes _sense_. Why can't he just understand what he should do?

Dirk is roused from sleep by Eridan's movements, but it's the door slamming that brings him all the way to waking.

"Hal?" Dirk gasps, heart racing as he jolts up into a sitting position.

"Eridan has retreated to his room and slammed the door." Hal says. "It is currently 5:37 AM. There is no danger. The temperature outside is 47 degrees Fahrenheit, partially cloudy. Your horoscope-"

No danger. Right. Dirk breathes shakily, running a hand over his face. His heartbeat steadies to the sound of Hal's familiar voice rattling off information. "That's good, Hal." He says, falling back down to the bed, staring at the ceiling. Hal falls silent as Dirk exhales slowly.

"Thanks." He murmurs. "Keep an eye on Eridan?"

"Of course."

"Thanks." Dirk sighs and turns over, trying to go back to sleep, but quickly finds himself missing the feeling of Eridan in his arms.

After about five or ten minutes of trying (and failing) to fall asleep again, Dirk gives in and gets out of bed. "Hal, I'm going to the workshop, let me know when Eridan's up."

That said, he goes to the workshop to try and get some work done.

Eridan stays curled up in his bed and staring firmly at the ceiling for a solid five minutes after Dirk goes to the workshop before finally getting up with a quiet, ornery grumble, shoulders hunched up around his fins as he approaches the dresser. At least it's not the clothes he had at the breeder, even though he prickles a little at the idea of wearing something Dirk gave him.

As he rifles through the drawers looking for something that suits him, he nervously looks up to the ceiling, teeth worrying at his lower lip. "...Hal?"

Hal's speaker sits on Eridan's windowsill. At Eridan's call of his name, it lights up with a ring of red light, and Hal asks, "yes, Eridan?"

He has to resist the urge to jump again when he hears Hal’s voice coming out of the little speaker, but manages to just scoff instead, pawing through progressively shorter skirts until he can find a pair of gray trousers and step into those.

“Tell me, do you tell everythin’ I ask you to Dirk?” He pulls out a dark purple button down shirt and squints at it critically for a second before shrugging it on, peering into the windowglass to check his reflection. He’s acting very collected and unbothered, but it’s easy to see something still a little out-of-sorts about him.

There's a pause where Hal circles his light around the rim of his speaker. The illusion of thinking is comforting to non-robots, he finds.

"Not unless it is something I have been instructed to report on, or your questions indicate a desire to hurt yourself or another being." Hal says.

Eridan squints at Hal, lips pressed into a thin line, before turning and nervously pacing around his room for a few minutes. Eventually, he comes back to Hal’s speaker, staring down at it accusingly.

“Are you watchin’ us all the time? I mean- well. Did you watch when we- When Dirk- uh-“ he gesticulates awkwardly, cheeks coloring and fins glaring out, before returning to his pacing- a little more stompy this time.

"Eridan." Hal cuts through his words, tone mildly amused. "You misunderstand. Though I do passively listen, my purpose is not to record or embarrass."

Hal pauses, then uses a gentle tone. "I am not alive, Eridan. So long as none of the parameters constructed in my code are not violated, I have no reason to intervene or pass judgment on events that may take place."

Eridan’s face scrunches up in an embarrassed scowl at the tone in Hal’s synthetic voice, his pacing getting faster before he huffs and dramatically throws himself back onto the bed.

It takes a while, but he eventually speaks up again, voice a little muffled by the bedspread. “..I was gonna ask if you could play back some of it. Not because-! I don’t! I didn’t- uh-“

He huffs out sharply through his nose and turns onto his back, baring his teeth at nothing in particular. “To see if I was really- enjoyin’ it? Or acting like I was enjoyin’ it. I don’t- I’m just. I’m really confused. And angry. I feel weird.”

That was not the response that Hal's algorithms had predicted, and it takes him a couple extra milliseconds to put his answer together.

"I can play back some of it, if that is what you wish. Turbulent emotions are a common experience amongst trolls settling into new homes. The feelings that you are experiencing, while most certainly distressing, are to be expected from being in a new, strange situation."

Eridan hisses dismissively at Hal as he curls up into a ball on the bed, neck still craned to look at his speaker. He knows Hal doesn’t necessarily live in it, but it still feels strange to not look at him while talking to him.

“Don’t patronize me. This place isn’t my _home_.” Still, his voice carries a strange doubt in it, and his face scrunches up in frustration as he scrubs a hand over his eyes. “Just- play some of it back.” He pauses for a second before his eyes go wide, hissing urgently. ” _Quietly!_ Turn- turn down the volume, or something.”

Hal cycles back through his banks to find the best moment to give Eridan, to show him that yes, he really was enjoying himself.

_ "You want more? Lemme hear you, Eridan, I want to hear that pretty voice of yours, those pretty noises- I'll fuck you even harder if that's what you want-" _

Eridan's noises are loud and obscene, but Hal adjusts the audio level appropriately as needed to prevent it from being too loud.

_ "Hhhnh, uh, uh,  _ **_ uh, uh, uh _ ** _ \- Mmn-  _ **_ please _ ** _ , 's- yeah,  _ **_ fuck _ ** _ -" _

The slapping of Dirk's thrusts pause, then there's a _loud_ , frantic moan from Eridan.

_"You got it kitten, I'll give it to you."_ The slapping starts up again, loud and forceful and quick. Dirk's words are quickly swallowed up by the desperate wails that Eridan makes, choppy and fucked out.

_ "That's it, Eridan, that's it, I've got you, so good for me, so perfect- Your pretty nook sucking me in so good, squeezing around my dick, you love this, love getting fucked, you can't lie to me, your bulge is completely unsheathed, it feels so good to  _ **_ be _ ** _ good, doesn't it? And you are, you're being  _ **_ so _ ** _ good, kitten-" _

Eridan howls and sobs, the absense of fucking meaning Hal's speakers picked up the kicking of Eridan's feet against the floor, the creaking of the desk as Eridan thrashed and came.

Then he's quiet and Dirk groans, low and pleased, as the slapping starts again.

_ "F-uck, so perfect, well done kitten, that was beau- beautiful- such a goo-ood boy, cumming so- ha- so perfect on my dick, giving me your voice like I told you to-" _

Another deep groan from Dirk as the slapping stops, then panting and heavy breathing.

_"Well done, Eridan."_ Dirk's voice is breathless, pleased, proud. **_"Good boy."_**

Hal stops the playback.

Oh, this was a mistake.

The _second_ the playback starts, Eridan feels his nook clench around nothing and practically flood with slick, so much that the clean pair of pants he’d put on are ruined before the recording is over. He buries his face in his hands, his cheeks feeling like burning coals, desperately trying to resist the urge to grind and rub against the mattress under his hips.

He sounds positively whorish. He sounds... happy.

Eridan lets out a quiet whine when he hears Dirk call his past self a _good boy,_ expecting the indignation and self-hatred he’d felt before, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he just feels hollow, needy, _wanting_.

“This- this doesn’t make _sense_! He’s not- I’m not _supposed_ to-“ Ugh. He flops onto his back, staring at the ceiling with tears of frustration in his eyes, trying to will away the very obvious splotch in his pants where he’s soaked through them.

"What about this situation is causing you distress, Eridan?" Hal asks patiently. Organic beings and their ridiculous _emotions_ and _hangups_. Hal is very glad that he is an AI.

Eridan stays sulkily quiet for a few seconds, feet idly kicking against the side of the bed. “It’s... hard to talk about. I don’t know how to talk about it.”

There’s another long, reluctant pause before he starts again, gesticulating violently. “I’m not supposed to be submissive to anyone except my commander, and I don’t have one anymore. I mean- well. One doesn’t exist anymore. The empire doesn’t exist anymore. Natural order a’ things is all out of whack. So I shouldn’t be being submissive to _anyone_. It just- it feels _wrong_. Makes me want to jump out of my fuckin’ skin.”

“..Even if it feels good.”

Eridan doesn’t make a lot of sense at the best of times, but from the extensive research Hal did on trolls before his purchase, this is more off mark than usual. Sure, violets usually have to be broken into obedience, but they don’t usually have reactions quite like this. And the way he’s talking about the empire, the natural order of things- he couldn’t have been alive for the defeat of the Alternian Empire. It happened before Dirk was born.

Hal considers Eridan's words. Eridan is speaking as though he _was part_ of the Empire, had experienced it- and now is trying to adjust to no longer being in that role.

Peculiar.

Hal gives himself a flag to do research on it later, see if there are any other recorded cases of behaviors like this in violet trolls. Genetic memory passed down through violets perhaps? Or something else?

He needs more data.

"Could you not see Dirk as your commander?" Hal inquires.

_”No!”_ He looks positively aghast at the idea. Secretly, it does feel quite good to be listened to, if he’s being honest with himself. He’d never gotten the opportunity to talk about how he feels, back at the breeder.

“He’s a _human_ , Hal. I mean, he- he can’t be. That’s not how it works. My sire told me all about it, I know better. I know all about how they’re soft and craven and honorless, and they could never fill the role that only a Fuchsia rightly should.” He preens for a second, like he’s just made a very good and smart point, before his eyebrows knit together again.

“Fuchsias are soft now too, though. So I can’t take orders from _anyone_.”

"That sounds like a conundrum." Hal says, choosing not to argue that Dirk _is_ , in fact, a man with integrity and honor and is far from 'soft'. "You need a commander, but there is no one who could fill that role. I certainly see how that can be causing distress and confusion, which how instinct-based trolls are as a race."

His _sire_ , though... Could that be the key, here?

"Who was your sire?" Hal asks curiously.

Eridan preens again, feeling a bit better with Hal’s words. He’s perfectly reasonable being distressed and confused, he’s not being silly. There’s a _reason_ for it.

He lights up with the opportunity to talk about his sire, though. “Oh, he was wonderful. He told me his hatchname was Cronus, but he was called Dualscar when he fought for Alternia as an adult. He was very very old, old enough that he’d fought in the invasion! He was still healthy and full of vigor, though. He had been close to Her Imperious Condescension, while she still ruled, and she’d given him some of her long life.”

When Eridan speaks of his sire and the Condesce, his eyes go dreamy, like a priest talking of his gods. “He taught me so much, Hal.” At that, his smile fades, and he pulls his legs back up against his chest. “I’m sure he would be ashamed of the way I’m actin’ now. He wouldn’t want me to show any sort of weakness or hesitation. He’d want me to keep fightin’. Hell, he would have expected me to win, by now.”

_Dualscar_? Oh, shit.

Just a quick search of the name reminds Hal of everything he needs to know. The proud, violet commander had been a central figure in the war- and had very rapidly gone missing once it was over. Speculation had tentatively suggested that maybe he had taken his own life, rather than be captured- but nothing was confirmed.

Well. Hal supposes he has their answer now. He had been captured and hidden away and used as a breeder. That is simultaneously both surprising and not. Regrettable, perhaps, but that's neither here nor there and not something Hal cares to waste processing power on at this time.

"It sounds like he was quite the character." Hal says. "I think it is unfair to judge you and your situations by his standards, though. He is not in your shoes, and he is not here to say anything one way or another."

Eridan frowns at Hal’s response, his brow furrowing deeply. “They aren’t just his standards, they’re my standards too. I don’t want to do what he taught me was wrong. It doesn’t even matter if Dirk’s a particularly good human, not that such a thing exists, but he- he didn’t even defeat me fairly. It feels like he cheated. To submit to a captor who- who I haven’t gotten a chance to have a fair fight against-“

He doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He feels like his head is alight with buzzing insects, not letting him settle down and think clearly. All he can do is trail off, pulling lightly at his tangled hair with a hiss of frustration. “It’s just _confusing_!”

Well, now. _That's_ quite interesting. It seems that Hal will need to have a talk with Dirk.

"Hypothetically, what would happen if a fair fight took place and you defeated him?" Hal asks, needing to know. "Would you kill him?"

Eridan looks quite distressed at that. “I- wait. I don’t-“

There’s another long pause, and Hal can just about see the gears turning in his head. “I suppose I should. I’ve had opportunities to kill him, and didn’t, but it wouldn’t have been- I-“

He rolls over on the bed, pressing his face into the pillow again, shoulders tense. “I don’t _know_! I had a thought, at first, about killing Dirk and living in his house, but I don’t suppose that would work out well for me in the long run.”

"Yes, the probability of that turning out well for you is low."

So Eridan _could_ have killed Dirk, but hasn't- and the idea clearly causes him distress. Hal logs that information away carefully. More things to consider.

"Eridan," Hal asks patiently, "what do you want to do right now?"

Eridan scowls. “I don’t know, you infernal machine. I suppose-“ There’s a sigh, and he fiddled with the hem of his shirt, scowl only growing deeper. “I suppose I’d like to feel less.. confused. And angry. And.. all.. self-loathing-y. But I don’t exactly see a way to do that. This whole situation is far too confusin’ for me to ever not be confused, I think.”

"I think that is completely understandable." Hal says. "It is a situation you were not prepared for that directly contradicts your instincts and upbringing."

He pauses. "How long were you with your sire?" He inquires. _Are there other violets like you out there? Struggling with instincts that make it hard for them to survive?_

He's quiet, seemingly having to think on his response for a long moment before speaking again. "..I was ten or eleven. I don't know where he went, he was just.. gone, one day. The staff wouldn't tell me anythin'. They used to say I was special, for being his kid. Purebred, or somethin'. I think they stopped tryin' to advertise that so much, by the time I was old enough to be listed for purchase. Maybe they.. maybe they realized that they'd made a mistake."

He laughs, quiet and humorless, drawing his legs up to his chest and idly fiddling with his hair, lost in thought as he stares distractedly out of his bedroom window.

Hal lets the silence sit. He settles on, "that is a load of shit. No one is special for who their parents are. They are special for who _they_ are."

"You are clearly an intelligent, clever, and determined troll. That alone should stand on it's own merits, not whatever the breeders thought of you or your worth."

Hal's not quite sure why he's telling Eridan this. Perhaps he simply enjoys having company to talk to that is not Dirk. Perhaps he is simply doing his job of looking after Eridan. Perhaps it doesn't really matter either way.

Eridan does his best to process that, but it's honestly hard for Hal to tell how it settles. Eridan is strange, so unable to hold back his emotions and so hard to read at once, but he's.. listening, so that counts for something.

"..Thank you, Hal." Eventually he gets up, grimaces, and goes about fetching a new pair of paints. "Is that pointy-haired douchecloud downstairs mad at me for makin' a big fuss and stormin' out of his room?"

Hal categorizes the response he gets from Eridan's description of Dirk as _amusement_ and slots that description away into his memory banks.

"Dirk is currently in his workshop." Hal reports. "He seems neutral at worst towards your behavior earlier."

Neutral. Well. That’s something he’s not entirely sure how to work worth, but it doesn’t seem too terrible. He’s tempted to just stay holed up in here until he absolutely has to leave, but... he’s hungry.

Eridan makes a noncommittal noise and leaves his room, peering down the stairs at Dirk’s workshop door before doing his best to descend as quietly and quickly as possible.

Soon, he’s made his way to the kitchen, and he begins to (still quietly) rifle through the fridge, this time with the intent of getting a snack instead of making a mess.

Hal leaves Eridan to it, unless Eridan calls for him again, and instead diverts more of his processing power towards Dirk.

"Dirk." Hal says, making Dirk look up towards his speaker. "Eridan is awake."

"How is he?" Dirk asks.

"Confused and contemplative." Hal says. "From my discussion with him, it is my understanding that his instincts are currently at war with his desires."

"Explain?" Dirk arches a brow at Hal.

"Here's an interesting tidbit of information. Eridan was sired by _Dualscar_ and had direct contact with him from a young age."

"....huh. Alright."

"Eridan was raised on stories of the _Empire_." Hal stresses. "His instincts have been guided by the ex-commander of the Alternian fleet. Eridan explicitly said that _'surrendering without a fair fight'_ felt confusing and _dishonorable_. The only one he is supposed to 'submit' to is his commander- but there are none left. Fuschias have 'gone soft' and humans are weak."

"Oh." Dirk gets it now. "Well, shit. That's something to consider. Anything else you two talked about that I should know?"

"Eridan is fond of Dualscar and the stories of the Condesce. He expressed confusion and reluctance at the idea of killing you."

"Thank god for that," Dirk mutters, but Hal ignores him.

"He does not know I am telling you these things, so I would appreciate discretion, Dirk. If he feels I have broken his trust then he will be reluctant to speak to me in the future."

"Yeah, don't worry Hal. I'll keep it to myself, see if I can draw it out of him on my own."

_A fair fight, hm?_ Dirk considers the idea. "What's he up to right now, anyway?"

"Finding food." Hal reports. "He seemed to express concern over if you were angry with him over his flight from your bed."

"Nah, it's whatever." Dirk says, returning most of his attention to his work. "You can tell him I'll be busy for a while- just don't let him break anything."

"One babysitter, coming right up." Hal says dryly, and returns most of his processing power towards keeping an eye on Eridan.

"Eridan." Hal says. "Dirk says that he will be busy for a while with his work, so you have free reign of the house. I asked for clarification if he was upset about you taking your leave this morning and he responded in a manner to indicate that he was unbothered."

When Hal turns his attention back to the kitchen, he finds Eridan on a chair, going through the cabinets. There are already a few apples and a clementine on the counter, and he soon descends with a box of cereal, sweeping all of it into his arms and walking towards the door to the yard. “Well, good. I suppose. I wasn’t really worried about it, anyway.”

He’d tried to find things that wouldn’t require cooking- he’s not prepared to admit that he needs help with that, however obvious it may be- and he found himself feeling a little giddy at the sheer amount of choices he has, even with that restriction.

Eridan settles down on the edge of the patio as he tears a hole in the cereal bag and scoops out a handful- or, he tries to settle down, wincing and flushing when he realizes that his ass is still far too sore to sit on a brick surface. Dammit. Maybe he can just... eat standing up. Or lay down on the lawn. What a conundrum.

Hal watches Eridan collect the food and go outside. His patio speaker is underneath an umbrella that Dirk had described as 'the ultimate in kawaii' and Hal had called 'atrocious', mostly as a joke. It's got a clear base with cutesie nyan neko sugar girl chibis decorating it and charms hung from each umbrella prong.

He watches Eridan squirm and flush as he sits, and decides to take pity on him and say, "the deck chair cushions are removable."

Eridan only gets more purple when he realizes his reaction's been noticed, scrambling back to his feet and grabbing a cushion from one of the chairs so he can comfortably resume munching cereal straight from the box. After a second, he cranes his neck to look at Hal's speaker and accompanying umbrella, just managing to hold back his snort. "You're lookin' fashionable, aren't you?"

"I am the cutest AI." Hal says, deadpan. "It is me. The good boy."

Eridan leans over to give Hal's speaker a little pat on the top, before quietly working through the rest of the food he'd brought out, watching the sunlight play off the pool water. It's still morning, and he's only been awake for a little while, but he finds himself more wanting to rest than try and entertain himself alone in the house.

The idea of speaking to Dirk again makes him a little anxious, but.. it'll have to happen eventually, he supposes. With a stretch and a quiet trill as he gets to his feet, he drags a deck chair closer to Hal's speaker and lays in it, intent on basking in the sun and taking a nice post-breakfast nap.

Though Hal cannot feel the pat, he appreciates the gesture nonetheless. He remains quiet as Eridan eats, splitting his processing power between watching Eridan, watching Dirk, and the remaining 20% of his processing towards researching the breeders that Eridan had come from. When Eridan eventually falls asleep, he lowers the processing power to 10% to keep an eye on him and diverts it towards Dirk.

"Eridan is napping outside." Hal informs Dirk.

"Alright." Dirk murmurs, thoroughly elbows-deep in a project. Hal leaves him to it.

Eridan is still napping when Dirk finally surfaces for food, so when Dirk goes out to the kitchen, he leaves Eridan to nap as he fixes himself a sandwich.

"Hey, Hal?" Dirk muses. "If I had a bare knuckles fist fight with Eridan do you think I'd win?"

Hal gives him a judgmental silence.

".... _what._ He said it felt wrong to submit without a fight, right? So what if I gave him one?"

"You _must_ realize what this sounds like." Hal says, and Dirk waves at him dismissively.

"I am well aware. Simulation, chop chop. Win/lose?"

"I think there is a very low chance of you losing. He is still a teenage troll and you have already overpowered him once when he had full control."

"Hm." Dirk leans against the counter and takes a contemplative bite. "Do you think it'd work?"

"Unknown." Hal says immediately. "Shockingly, there's not any data about _fighting your troll into submission_."

Dirk snorts in response. "Can you make an educated guess?"

"Educated _how?_ " Hal simulates a sigh. "Fine. From what Eridan has expressed to me, if you win a fight with him, it _may_ -" Hal stresses the word _may_ deliberately, "cause him to accept you as his superior and make him loyal to you."

"That's good enough for me." Dirk says. "I suppose I'll see how he does today and go from there."

Hal keeps his light spinning, but says nothing. Dirk rolls his eyes.

"I'm not going to _fucking beat him_." Dirk says.

"If you say so." Hal says.

"I- ugh, okay, I don't need to take this from you." Dirk says, and steps over to open the sliding door to the patio. He grins a little at Eridan's peaceful expression, but grabs a chair and carries it over so that he can sit next to Eridan.

Eridan does look peaceful enough, but he’s a light sleeper. His eyes flick open when he feels Dirk approaching and sitting down.

He’s on the business end of a mildly suspicious squint for a few seconds before he closes his eyes again, choosing to dwell halfway to napping again until he speaks up.

Eridan doesn't really respond, so Dirk stretches out in his chair and eats his sandwich in relative quiet. He knows Hal won't nag at him like this, since Eridan's napping, and he's shamelessly taking advantage of it.

Once he's done eating, he folds his hands behind his head and looks up at the sky. "You awake, Eridan?" Dirk asks, keeping his voice low in case Eridan is actually still asleep.

Eridan manages not to let his expression change as he hears Dirk settle down beside him and start eating, listening quietly, his breathing still steady.

There’s a few seconds pause when Dirk speaks again, and then he opens one eye, peering at him sleepily. “Yes, I am.”

Dirk glances down to look at Eridan and hums softly. "How are you feeling? Sore anywhere?"

He's sure that Eridan's ass is _throbbing_. If Eridan isn't too fussy about it, he'll put some lotion on it, which should help.

He’s absolutely sore. Even on this nice comfortable deck chair, he has to will himself not to squirm and wince every five minutes.

So, of course, he says so. “No, I’m not sore.” He thinks of saying something about how the spanking was barely anything, and how he hasn’t even felt it, but at the last moment, he thinks better of it. Maybe not the best time to test his luck.

Eridan is _absolutely_ lying, but Dirk won't call him out on it. "That's good." Dirk says instead. "If you do start hurting, let me know. I have some lotion that should help."

He looks a little more directly at Eridan. "Did you eat breakfast?" He asks.

Eridan looks a little peeved, but he doesn’t press the issue, now opening both eyes so he can side-eye him properly. “Yeah. Some fruit and some cereal. Took a nap after.”

Maybe that will serve as a good reason for why he hasn’t taken in his trash yet. Not that he’s wary of another punishment, of course! It just.. wouldn’t be tactically advantageous. At the moment. Oh, who is he trying to fool with this shit?

"That's good." Dirk says. "I'll show you how to work some of the stuff in the kitchen tonight. I'd hate for you to accidentally burn yourself on anything."

“They probably didn't give you much to do at the breeders, right? Is there anything from there that you miss?"

As always, Eridan seems wholly unprepared for the reality of Dirk being nice to him. Not even nice in the overbearing, infantalizing way some of the breeders were- just _nice._ He fidgets, blunt nails tugging at the hem of his shirt again. “Yeah, that’d be useful.”

That question gives him pause, though. He tilts his head for a second, making a face- he doesn’t really want to admit that he likes it here, but he does. He’s already attached to this house, even if he’s not prepared to admit any possibility of being attached to Dirk. When he does speak, it’s with confidence. “No, nothin’ at all. They weren’t, uh, really all that great in terms of _quality enrichment._ ”

Dirk hums a little in understanding. "Yes, I would imagine they probably aren't overly invested in..." he trails off. What the fuck was he going to say there, making sure they were sellable? Ensuring they had the ability to carry on conversation?

...can Eridan even _read?_

"Well. You know." Dirk finishes lamely. "Hal or I can show you later how some of the fun stuff in the house works- don't want you lounging around bored all day."

Eridan sits up a little bit and squints at Dirk again, trying to figure out what he'd been about to say, before settling back down in his chair. His human (his human? What the fuck? _the_ human) is being weirdly cagey, but it's not really a mystery as to why, seeing as he threw a shitfit and scrambled out of his bed in the wee hours of the morning after acting like a complete slattern the night before.

He lets the silence hang for a bit longer before deciding to take pity on him and make conversation- why, he has no idea. Possibly just to save himself from the awkwardness. "What are you doing, exactly, in that workshop of yours? You've been in there all damn mornin'."

"Ah, that's where the main bulk of my work takes place." Dirk says. "I design a bunch of shit- but mostly robotics. This morning I was working on a commission- someone wants a fucking hoverboard that can't go more than a certain height from the ground and let me tell you, the coding for _that_ is a headache and a half."

He shakes his head a bit, exasperated. "Of course it can't be as simple as 'just don't give it this much power', they want it to be _able_ to fly higher, just not unless they give it permission to. It's some child lock shit, which- yeah, good fucking luck keeping that locked."

Eridan can't help sitting forward in his chair a little at the mention of robotics- he tries his best not to look _too_ interested, of course, but he's always had a mild-to-obsessive interence in science, and robotics is definitely a kind of science, even if he doesn't necessarily know jack shit about it.

Dirk's rambling about the hoverboard, consequently, doesn't mean anything to him, but he finds himself enjoying hearing him talk about it. He stretches and settles back into his chair, swallowing another yawn. "Sounds dumb."

"It's very dumb." Dirk agrees. "It's unnecessary restrictions on a otherwise simple project, but that means I get to charge through the fucking nose for it. If this dude'll pay for a 300% markup on his costs then I'm not in a place to give him options otherwise."

He huffs slightly in amusement before glancing over to Eridan, who looks so damn peaceful right now that Dirk is almost jealous. After a moment, Dirk reaches over and experimentally runs his hand over Eridan's hair in the imitation of a pet.

Eridan isn't suspecting the contact, busy listening to the sound of the wind and the local birds, but his eyes snap open when he feels Dirk's hand in his hair. For a second, they have that predatory, calculating look he'd seen when he'd first woken up yesterday, a quiet growl building in his throat...

But, after a moment, he quiets down again and sits still. He still looks like he's calculating the risk of trying to take off one of Dirk's fingers, but that could easily be for show.

"After all, who am I to refuse a fuck ton of money for a little extra work?" Dirk continues, as if nothing strange is happening. When Eridan doesn't do anything more than growl softly before going still, Dirk does it again. "I'm pretty sure the fat stacks of dollars that'll be coming my way are worth the grey hairs the stress is doubtlessly giving me."

"Mmn." The very small amount of physical contact he's getting is fucking scrambling his brain, somehow, so that's the best response he can muster. God, can't he get pat between the horns without having another identity crisis? Still, it feels.. nice, and also makes him _really angry,_ and he doesn't want him to stop, but he also wants Dirk to put that hand back where it came from or so help him. His fins go back a little bit, but that's the only outer sign of his distress that he lets through, eyes going half-closed once more.

Dirk keeps the petting motion going, launching into a ramble about the specifications of the design that he's working on- it doesn't really matter if Eridan is actually listening or not, Dirk's finding that just having him here, letting Dirk pet his hair, is really really _nice_. Like, Hal is great and all and a good conversationalist- but as much as Dirk loves his sassy AI, he can't take the place of another living, breathing being inhabiting the same space.

Eventually, though, Dirk runs out of ramble and they just sit there quietly as Dirk slowly pets Eridan's hair.

"I should get back to work, probably." Dirk eventually says. "Hal, what time is it?"

"Currently 3:28 PM." Hal reports. Dirk sighs.

"Yeah, I should get back to work." He mutters, but makes no move to get up.

The little voice in Eridan's head that's been hollering at him for everything he does over the last 24 hours definitely has opinions about him sitting nice and still for Dirk to pet, but he almost.. doesn't want to listen. This really is very pleasant, as much as he never wants to admit it. He doesn't think he's ever had anyone just tell him all about what they were up to before, except Dualscar, or maybe one or two of the friendlier breeders. Even when the talking stops, he feels soothed, like there's a little empty part of him filled up by the closeness.

Dirk says he should get back to work. Hal's report of the time seems to confirm this. Still, the three of them keep sitting there, and Eridan is lulled more and more by the repetitive stroking of his hair. Finally, he looks over and gently tosses his head, a weird little motion halfway between butting into the touch and trying to throw him off. He really, truly doesn't know which he'd rather do.

Maybe, just a little bit, he's starting to wish that he didn't feel so loyal to the traditions of the Empire. Then, maybe, it would be easier to have more of this nice feeling.

Dirk keeps petting Eridan's hair without thinking about it and is a little surprised when Eridan shifts under his touch. Eridan does a catlike motion, pushing at his hand.

"Yeah, I know." Dirk says, and slides his fingers through Eridan's hair, trailing him down the back of Eridan's neck. "Thanks, Eridan." On impulse, he leans over and drops a kiss on top of Eridan's head before climbing to his feet and stretching his shoulders out. "I'll work a couple more hours before stopping for the day." He says, heading inside, casting a last glance at Eridan before closing the patio door behind himself.

Eridan blinks when Dirk thanks him, mouth quirking, before he goes still as Dirk kisses the top of his head. He's frozen for a few seconds- that is, except for his fins, which both stand up like little fans on both sides of his head- before he manages to conjure up a convincingly menacing glare.

Which, of course, is for the kiss. And not because he wants him to stay. _Fuck._

He lets Dirk go, lying back against his deck chair and scowling at the clouds, before electing to get up and make his way inside as well. Dirk should be safely tucked away back in his workshop by now- hopefully he'll be able to find something to occupy himself. He quietly pads through the lower floor, looking for some books, or anything else that looks worth his interest.

In the first floor of the house, there are a couple of bookshelves with a collection of books by the fireplace. There's one that's filled with books that any book snob could call "essentials", literary teachers would call "classics" and Dirk calls "books to impress people". There's also a bookshelf that's mostly science fiction and fantasy novels, then another that looks to be horse themed books.

There's also a disgustingly big 4k TV, paired with a couple of gaming systems.

Dirk honestly doesn't have a whole lot in his house. His days are mostly spend working or doing one of three things for entertainment.

Eridan gets right down to business snooping around the bookshelves, taking mental note of all the ones he wants to come back to later. (He’s going to have to interrogate Dirk about all that horsebook nonsense at some point.) He avoids the TV, slightly intimidated by how large and shiny it is, and lingers quietly for a while outside of Dirk’s workshop before turning around and returning to the living room.

He very nearly settles down on the couch, but even sitting there has him feeling all strange and embarrassed and warm, unable to fend off the memories of yesterday. He grabs a few of the more interesting-looking books he’d seen and retreats to the sitting area with the nice chairs, resigning himself to reading until something more interesting shows itself.

After all, books are a valuable commodity. He knows how to read, of course- Dualscar had told him that his line were known for their intelligence, so he’d managed to teach himself, but new material was always hard to get a hold of.

Dirk spends a couple more hours in his workshop and _does_ actually manage to get a decent chunk of work done. He leaves Hal to do some code compiling and error checking when his eyes start swimming and he has to stop, and comes out (making sure to double-check that the door is locked) to find Eridan curled up in a chair.

Well, that answers his question about reading. Ha. Dirk is glad he didn't ask earlier- he _definitely_ would have offended Eridan's sensibilities.

"Hey." He says by way of greeting. "You feeling hungry?"

Eridan only looks up for a second before he's back to being face-deep in his book, giving a small shug of his shoulders. "I suppose." Dirk can see the cover from here: It's _Dhalgren,_ by Samuel Delaney, and Eridan is fucking _enraptured._ It remains to be seen whether he'll put it down to eat, but right now, it looks like Dirk would have to drag him by the horn to get him to do anything besides turning pages. "Your books are alright, I guess."

Eridan looks absorbed as shit in his book, so Dirk just chuckles and gives Eridan's hair a quick little swipe, a momentary pet before he's moving over to the kitchen. "Glad they're entertaining." He says. "Lemme know when you start running out of stuff and I'll take you to a bookstore."

Man, what kind of books would Eridan pick out for himself? Dirk is _dying_ to know.

He pokes through the cupboards, looking for something to make for dinner. Fuck it. He's a grown ass adult, he can have mac n' cheese for dinner if he wants. Add ground beef and now its got protein so good fucking enough. Shit, does he have any fruit? Dirk has a _major_ fucking craving for fruit right now.

He sets a pot of water to boil and a pan to heat and finds an apple. Fuck yes. "Hal, add fruit to the shopping list." He says absent-mindedly, retrieving a knife from the locked cabinet.

"Yes, the generic 'fruit'." Hal says dryly. "Added."

Dirk drops the knife next to the cutting board for now, washing his hands and getting the meat out. "Hey, Eridan." He says, glancing back at the troll. "You got any interest in learning how to cook?"

Eridan doesn't let that quick hairpat go unacknowledged, sending him a mild glare and a disgruntled, crickety noise under his breath, but the promise of more books in the future is more then enough to soothe his ego. He's distracted enough by his reading that he doesn't notice Dirk starting to cook until he's addressed again, craning his neck to look at him over the back of the chair.

Hm. Cooking. Habit means he gives the knife a very intrigued look, but he manages to make his eyes stay on Dirk, tilting his head with a contemplative expression. Making hot food for himself without having to rely on Dirk would be very nice. Of course, his instincts are rankled- this is a rather domestic thing to do, and it’s been far too long since he did anything directly disobedient. He feels like he really should be being difficult right now, if he wants to keep a respectable quota up.

But. Well.

He _is_ hungry.

Eridan shrugs, trying to look as if he isn’t bothered one way or another, and reads a few more lines of his book before carefully marking his place with a leaf he’d found in the yard.

After a healthy pause, he comes slinking over to Dirk, trying to look a lot less interested than he actually is.

Eridan drags his decision out, so Dirk just waits patiently. Eridan returns his attention to his book, so Dirk just shrugs right on back, turning to the counter to open up the ground beef.

Ah. Here's Eridan, joining him. Just being a bit petulant, is he? That's fine with Dirk.

"Right, wash your hands- I'm going to assume that they taught you absolutely jack shit at the breeders since they fed you bland as fuck food, so just let me know if there's anything I say that you already know."

"Start off- I usually always treat stoves like they're hot. The circles are where it heats up, but since it's an electric stove they can stay hot for a _while_ after they're shut off. Best to avoid touching it in general."

Dirk takes Eridan through some basic kitchen safety shit- wash your hands before and after touching meat, how you're not supposed to use the same cutting board for meat and anything else (even though Dirk does, he just washes it between uses because he likes to avoid making extra dishes), always use pans on the stove, don't throw water into oil or vice versa, how nonstick pans are liars and you should almost always put down some kind of lubricant like oil or butter.

It's shockingly domestic and Dirk finds that he's massively enjoying the entire fucking thing. Dave would probably laugh his ass off, but he also can't make anything more complicated than instant ramen so he can shove it.

"Ground beef is deceptively easy to cook." Dirk says, putting it in the pan and turning it into a big, flat circle with his wooden spoon. "Anyone who tells you to shove it around and break it up is a liar."

He washes his hands again and grabs the seasonings, distributing them across the top. "Leave it until it's browned on the other side, then flip it in sections and leave it as untouched as possible until it's cooked through the other side, too." He holds out the spatula to Eridan. "Want to keep an eye on it for me?"

Eridan doesn't particularly like the idea of listening to Dirk, but this sounds important, so he suspends that rule and tries to memorize what he's being told, soaking up all the information he's being given like a sponge. He's always very much liked _knowing_ things.

The hissing sound of the meat in the pan sends his fins back a little, but he seems a little excited about the idea of Having A Job, so he takes the spatula as soon as it's offered and starts looming over the skillet, watching the food like a hawk.

Aw. He looks so focused and concentrated. It's _adorable_.

"You'll want to give it a couple of minutes, but you can kinda judge it by looking at the edge. Once it looks brown, slip the spatula under a little section and lift it just enough to check the underside." Dirk says, giving the noodles a quick stir to de-clump them.

"For anything in a pot of water, you want to make sure to stir it every now and then and unstick anything from the bottom. Noodles are particularly notorious for sticking together." Dirk says, tapping the water off the spoon and resting it to the side. "Also, anything that gets really hot with water in it is gonna make a _lot_ of steam- if it has a cover on the top, you always want to open it away from you or you'll get blasted with boilingly hot steam."

He picks up the knife and starts cutting the apple up, half and then quarters and then pits them. "The most important thing about knife work in the kitchen is making sure your knifes are _sharp_." He says. "A dull knife is a dangerous one. It'll slip off of whatever you're trying to cut- and you'll cut _yourself_ instead. Plus it just makes it hard to cut shit, which is annoying."

He quarters the last piece and flips them over to start slicing them into smaller wedges, before holding one out to Eridan. "Any questions so far?" He asks.

Eridan keeps his eyes fixed firmly on his pan, but he gives a little nod at each piece of information Dirk rattles off, eventually doing as instructed with the meat and flipping portions of it as they become fully cooked. He's focused enough that it takes him a second or two to notice the apple being held out to him, but as soon as he does he snatches it out of Dirk's hand and pops it in his mouth, giving a small shake of his head.

Now that his attention's been interrupted somewhat, he finds himself noticing the knife again. Dirk had said it was very sharp, right? It's just within his reach. The burners are so hot, it wouldn't take much effort to push Dirk into one, give him an opening to make another attack. He thinks, for just a little too long, about the bloodlust Dualscar had described to him- how _good_ it felt to kill. Maybe killing would feel better than being good. He wouldn't know. He hasn't tried.

Eridan's fingers twitch, just a little, and then the pan gives a particularly loud sputter and he's back to diligently making sure it doesn't overcook.

Dirk noices Eridan's attention on the apple cutting, but he doesn't respond in any real way, popping a slice of apple in his own mouth. Eridan's attention switches back to the stove and Dirk sets the knife down, giving the noodles another stir. They're almost done, so he drops the strainer in the sink and gets the butter and milk out.

"Same thing as lids when you're poring stuff out." Dirk advises. "Don't pour towards yourself, you don't want a faceful of steam." He interrupts the timer with five seconds left, switching off the burner.

He pours the noodles out, dropping the butter into the empty pot and giving it a quick swirl to start melting, then shaking the strainer. "Alright, go ahead and turn the stove off, now you can start breaking up the meat into smaller chunks."

He shoves the butter around at the bottom of the pot to melt it a little more and then dump the noodles back in, stirring to help melt the butter faster. That done, in goes the milk, then the cheese powder, then Dirk is stirring until it's all mixed.

"Right, go ahead and spoon the beef in, the grease isn't strained out of it so let it drain through the spatula slots for a moment before you dump it into the mac n cheese." Dirk says.

Eridan only has one last brief thought of scalding Dirk with a potful of pasta water before deciding that it would be a waste of pasta and putting it all behind him.

He keeps on paying attention to all of Dirk’s instructions, watching him turn the burner off and mimicking him to do it himself before methodically smashing the beef into bite-sized pieces and carefully scooping them into the pasta pot, paying way too much attention to getting the Right Amount of Grease out beforehand.

He hadn’t really known what to think of this at first- he’s all for meat, obviously, but food so heavy in grain and dairy seemed very... human-y fo him- but it’s starting to look very, very good. Eridan’s stomach grumbles embarrassingly loud, and he hisses quietly in embarrassment.

Dirk chuckles softly at Eridan's stomach grumbling and subsequent hiss. He decides to push his luck and leans over to plant a kiss against Eridan's temple. "Good job with the meat." He says, starting to mix it into the mac n cheese. "Can you grab us some bowls from the cupboard?"

Trolls should be able to eat almost anything that humans can (and some things they can't) so Dirk hopes that Eridan doesn't have any food allergies, that would be awkward. It's not exactly something they'd test for at the breeders.

Eridan goes stiff when Dirk kisses his forehead again, claws digging lightly into the counter. He liked that, but he also did not like that at all, and he shouldn’t be good, but _he did a good job-_

It takes a couple seconds for Eridan’s brain to stop looping that this situation _does not compute,_ but he eventually goes half-walking, half-stomping over to the counter to obediently fetch the bowls.

Eridan's being petulant now so Dirk better tone it back a little. He keeps stirring as Eridan gets the bowls, then dishes up the food.

"Thanks." He says, putting the pot down and getting forks, carrying the bowls over to the table. He gets them waters, then brings the apple over as well and puts it between their spots, dropping into his seat.

"Consider this the conclusion of your first cooking lesson." Dirk says with a grin.

Eridan hovers by the table watching Dirk get everything set up before walking over and gingerly sitting down at his spot, blinking at the half-eaten apple at the midpoint between them like a territory line.

Or a peace offering. Or maybe it’s just an apple, and he’s reading too much into this. He shuffles a bit, mumbles something that could have possibly been a thanks with shoulders drawn up around his head, and starts shoveling macaroni into his mouth at a terrifying rate.

Dirk watches Eridan sit down carefully and has to suppress a smirk. His ass is _definitely_ sore.

But he starts eating quickly and Dirk watches with mild concern. "Don't choke, Eridan." He says. "Food's not going anywhere."

He eats at a much more normal pace, of course.

“Get off my ass, I’ll choke if I feel like it.” It feels good to snipe at Dirk again after holding back for so long, so he actually does settle down and eat a little slower, no longer feeling quite as big a need to avoid talking. Shows him for smiling at him like that. He’s the reason his ass is sore.

Dirk just huffs a little in amusement, not bothered in the slightest.

"It is a good thing I know the Heimlich maneuver, then." He muses. "Are you thinking of reading more after dinner?"

Eridan frowns at Dirk when he laughs, taking chewing a bit slower so that he has time to think on his answer.

“..Yes. I’m.. enjoying it.” He hasn’t read many books, but he’s sure this one will be taking the spot of his favorite for a while to come now.

"That's good." Dirk says. "I'd hate for my options to bore you- where'd be the fun in that?" He chuckles a little.

The meal passes amicably enough- Dirk plying Eridan with questions about his book and getting careful answers in response.


	5. Chapter 5

Dirk clears their dishes when they're done eating- and intercepts Eridan before he can retreat back to his book, hooking an arm around his waist and tugging him in, Eridan's back pressed along Dirk's front.

"How's your ass, Eridan?" Dirk murmurs, pressing a kiss behind Eridan's fin. "I bet you've been sore all day- I'll help with that, if you'll let me."

  
  


Eridan makes a cursory effort to just squirm out of Dirk’s arms without answering him, but his grip is too strong, as it always seems to be. He sighs in resignation, craning his neck away, but Dirk has a wonderful view of his flustered expression.

“You know how it is, you good-for-nothin’ pervert. And I don’t know if that would be a smart idea on my part, seein’ as it’s your fault I’m sore in the first place.” Of course, he’d only gotten spanked because he was the one misbehaving, but.. semantics.

  
  


" _ Pervert? _ " Dirk says, mock-offended. "Now, careful, that's a serious accusation." He presses a kiss to Eridan's shoulder. Then another, soft kiss over his neck, barely ghosting his gills. "You wouldn't be sore if you didn't misbehave in the first place." Dirk murmurs, raising his mouth to be against Eridan's jaw. "Did you forget that, kitten?"

He presses another kiss to Eridan's jaw. Then another. He's got both of his arms around Eridan, now, one around his chest- the other slipping below the hem of Eridan's pants, spread fingers resting over his belly.

  
  


_ Fuck. _ Eridan squirms as the nice, foggy feeling of just wanting to be Dirk’s kitten and get as many kisses as possible starts to sink its terrible creeping fingers into his brain.

He lets out a quiet, throaty noise as Dirk brushes his gills, huffing sharply and knocking his foot back against his shoe, but there’s no power behind it, nothing like the way he’d stomped on him the day before.

Of course, he’d had to disobey, hadn’t he? It’s just what he’s supposed to do, that overrides being told, he’s gone over that in his head so many times, but suddenly the idea of telling Dirk that seems pointless and rather silly. His breath catches when he feels a warm hand pressing down on his belly, just under the hem of his pants, and lets out a little growl- not at Dirk, but at himself, because he’s already getting wet.

  
  


Eridan gives a little fussy kick, but there's no force behind it, so Dirk just chuckles, pressing another kiss to Eridan's jaw.

"What are you feeling, kitten?" Dirk murmurs, slowly letting his fingers creep lower over Eridan's belly. "Cause right now I'm thinking about you, in my lap, rolling your hips nice and slow on my dick."

  
  


Eridan’s mouth falls open when Dirk kisses against his jaw again, and this time he can’t help pressing his thighs together hard, feeling the slickness spreading against his skin.

It’s all too much. Every time Dirk pins him down or traps him somehow, he’s felt these confusing waves of arousal, and now his arms are holding him nice and still as he says all these pretty things in his ear.

Fuck it, actually. He’ll hate himself later, but right now, he’s far too horny to think too hard about honor. He lets out another low rumble under his breath, an angry sort of sound, but it’s accompanied by a needy grind of his hips, rubbing back against Dirk.

  
  


Eridan grumbles softly, but he's grinding back against Dirk, so Dirk chuckles softly. He pulls his hands back to find Eridan's wrist and tug him over- to the chair he had been sitting in earlier, dropping down and tugging him into Dirk's lap.

The chair is big enough that Eridan's legs can fit comfortably on either side of Dirk's- and as Dirk's other hand finds Eridan's hips, holding him in place, he grins up at Eridan.

"Hey there, kitten." He murmurs. "You're looking awful pretty, sitting in my lap." He brings Eridan's hand up to his mouth and kisses the pads of his fingers.

  
  


Eridan finds himself letting out another quiet, muffled noise at the feeling of being moved around so easily by Dirk, tugged into his lap and held there so he can't get away. He can feel his nook throbbing and his body growing warm, only barely managing to keep his vaguely disapproving expression as he watches Dirk gently kiss his fingers.

"You keep tellin' me I'm pretty. I'm not sure what your game is, here." His fingers twitch, in a way that would have probably cut Dirk's lip open if his claws weren't blunted, starting to grind needily in his lap without entirely knowing that he's doing so.

  
  


"Game?" Dirk arches a brow at Eridan, taking in his disgruntled expression, but his hips are twitching, shifting on Dirk's lap. Dirk presses another kiss to the tips of Eridan's fingers, letting go of Eridan's hip to bring his hand up and brush a couple of knuckles along Eridan's cheek.

"Can't I simply appreciate a pretty kitten in my lap?" Dirk murmurs. "Maybe I like looking at you. Maybe I like seeing that pretty violet flush settle into your cheeks."

  
  


Eridan can't hold back a bit of a scowl when Dirk keeps on praising him, but he can feel his face getting even hotter, his head tilting to lean into the brush of his fingers. There's a few seconds of stillness, and then he reaches down and firmly rubs his hand over Dirk's crotch through his pants, his touch a little unsteady. This is the first time he's tried to escalate things so directly, and he know he'll freak out over it later, but right now, he  _ wants _ it. Wants to hear the way this human's voice goes low and growly when he's turned on.

  
  


There's that pretty flush that Dirk does, in fact, like to see. He shifts his touch to cup Eridan's cheek, thumbing over his cheekbone as Eridan tilts his head into the touch-

Oh,  _ Eridan _ . Dirk's smile goes fonder as Eridan reaches down to touch clumsily over Dirk's cock. The touch feels good, so Dirk sighs in pleasure. "Go ahead, Eridan." He mumurs, shifting a little to slouch in the chair, giving Eridan a slightly better angle to work with. He lets go of Eridan's hand and drapes it over the back of the chair, but keeps gently brushing his thumb along Eridan's cheek.

  
  


Eridan shivers and clenches around nothing when he hears Dirk sigh, hand continuing to rub back and forth over his cock through his pants, mouth falling open to quietly pant as he feels it through the fabric. Before long, though, he shifts his touch to start clumsily fiddling with his waistband, trying to open his fly. His hips are grinding down properly, now, rubbing back and forth over one of his legs, a quiet rumble coming from his chest with each pleasant drag of fabric against his nook.

Eventually, he does manage to get Dirk's pants open, and just stares at his cock inside his underwear for a few seconds, pupils blown wide with arousal. He's been trying very hard not to think about it, but so many things about Dirk turn him on. He's so  _ alien, _ all hot-blooded, soft and strong at the same time. Licking his lips slowly, he leans forward and buries his face against his neck to breathe in  _ deep, _ groaning under his breath at his scent as he starts to pet his dick through the fabric of his underwear.

  
  


Dirk sits back and does nothing but react, wanting Eridan to seek pleasure out himself this time- and wanting to see  _ how _ Eridan seeks it out.

So he just makes pleased noises as Eridan rubs until he starts working Dirk's pants open. Eridan's trying to grind a little more insistantly, so Dirk shifts a leg, gives him a thigh to rock properly against.

Oh, Eridan's expression when he sees Dirk's tented underwear is  _ delicious _ . Like he knows what he wants but has to convince himself he's  _ allowed _ .

He leans in to press his face to Dirk's neck and Dirk cups the back of Eridan's head, scratching fingers through his hair.

"That's it, kitten," he groans, sighing in pleasure at the petting. His dick should really not be this hard, especially when thinking about how Eridan's  _ extremely sharp teeth _ are right by his jugular and could rip his throat out in a moment.

But Eridan's touching him willingly and moaning softly into Dirk's neck- so Dirk lets him do it, his dick throbbing at the danger of it.

"Such a good boy." Dirk breathes.

  
  


The moment Eridan presses his face to Dirk’s shirt and breathes in, all thoughts of how easy it would be to neatly sever his jugular vein vanish from his head. He groans under his breath as a firm thigh presses up between his legs, rutting against it faster and faster.

And then Dirk tells him that he’s a good boy, all soft and gravely, and Eridan can’t help whining all high and needy as he reaches his hand into his underwear and wraps it around his cock. It feels good to touch him, but he’s honestly still not sure what feels good to humans- he lightly squeezes a few times, his fingers cool against Dirk’s feverish skin.

  
  


Eridan groans all pretty and grinds harder, but his touch on Dirk's cock is light, unsure. The squeeze feels good, so Dirk groans lowly, but he drops his hand from Eridan's cheek to reach down to guide him.

"Like this, kitten." Dirk murmurs, his hand over Eridan's, encouraging him to stroke. "Nice and easy, just gotta find a good rhythm."

  
  


Dirk guides his hand, shows him how to do it right, and Eridan is so, so eager to learn. He shifts his grasp and starts stroking up and down, tilting his head so he can watch, his forehead pressed against his shoulder as the sharp tip of one of his horns grazes dangerously close to Dirk’s cheek.

Dirk’s cock is so nice and flushed in his hand, and he whines under his breath again as he watches precum bead at the tip, his nook clenching hungrily around nothing. Without entirely realizing it, he speeds his stroking up, his panting growing heavy and raspy.

  
  


"Watch the horns, kitten." Dirk says on a breathless chuckle, tilting his head away slightly. He groans as Eridan starts stroking faster, but quickly stills their hands. "Not too much." He breathes. "Don't want it to be over before we really get started."

Having Eridan in his lap, actively trying to please him- fuck, Dirk would he lying if he said he wasn't massively turned on by the situation. He had expected to pull Eridan down into his lap and finger him until he's cum and gone nice and relaxed- but this curious, needy, proactive Eridan is  _ delightful _ .

"You want to sink that pretty nook of your onto my dick?" Dirk murmurs. "I bet you want to be filled up, go ahead and do it, kitten."

  
  


Eridan had been so absorbed in touching Dirk, feeling his cock throb in his hand, that he'd nearly forgotten there was more he wanted.  _ Nearly. _ He huffs out sharply as Dirk murmurs in his ear, hand slowly coming to a stop- he looks caught between aroused and humiliated, right now, with how needy and  _ slutty _ he's letting himself be, but the intense embarrassment he's starting to feel about his behavior only seems to loop back around into pleasure. He brings his hand to his face, intent on pressing it over his mouth to quiet his noises- but then he smells, then tastes, the precum on his fingers, and his eyes go wide and dark as a shudder runs down his spine.

His last shred of hesitation crumbles. He can't wait anymore, he wants Dirk inside him NOW. He presses forward against Dirk, panting and whining, as he shoves his pants down as far as they'll go- he doesn't even get up to take them off properly, he just pushes at them until they're bunched around his upper thighs and then settles back down into his lap. His nook is slick and open, and he shivers when he grinds down against Dirk again- his focus drifts in a second, and he finds himself mindlessly humping Dirk's cock, getting it nice and wet with his material.

  
  


Eridan stops at Dirk's words, looking flustered- but then he brings his hand up to his mouth and his face goes  _ violet _ , eyes wide. Dirk drinks in the sight of Eridan licking at his fingers, but doesn't get the chance to say anything as Eridan turns into a flurry of movement- yanking his pants down, wiggling up, and rubbing his slick nook across Dirk's cock.

"There we go, kitten, you know what you want." Dirk cooes as Eridan grinds and shudders. Eridan's expression is going hazy, vacant- so Dirk takes pity on him, helps him out. He grabs Eridan's hips with one hand and, with the other, guides his dick to press against Eridan's nook.

Just pressing, though. He wants Eridan to fuck  _ himself _ on Dirk's cock.

"Nice and easy, kitten." Dirk croons and lets go of Eridan's hip.

  
  


He can’t hold back a whine of disappointment when he’s tugged up and away from the grind of his dick against his nook, but all of Eridan’s noises become firmly positive as soon as he realizes what Dirk’s doing. He stays straddling his lap for a moment, legs shaking a little, before groaning high in the back of his throat as he slowly, carefully starting to fuck himself down with little rocks of his hips.

Dirk can see the way his expression scrunches up and then melts as he’s filled, his bulge sliding out the rest of the way to writhe against the hem of his shirt. He just keeps rocking himself, pressing himself down, until he’s finally taken Dirk balls-deep and is sitting in his lap again. His face is slack with pleasure, eyes glazed over, and he’s gripping the front of his shirt almost hard enough to tear the fabric.

  
  


Eridan rocks himself down so carefully, taking a little bit at a time, and Dirk just sits back and lets him do it, lets Eridan wiggle down at his own speed, his bulge sliding free to stain purple slick across Dirk's shirt. He seats himself all the way down- and the hazy, rapturous expression on Eridan's face is so fucking  _ perfect _ .

"There you go, kitten, doesn't that feel good?" Dirk murmurs, enjoying the tight, wet clench of Eridan's nook. He reaches up and covers Eridan's hands with his own, working them loose, guiding them up to drape around his neck instead. "You like the feeling of my filthy human cock splitting you open, right? You love being filled."

  
  


Eridan lets Dirk pose him easy as anything, eyes still wide and glazed as he squeezes down around the cock inside him and huffs out quiet, breathy moans, overwhelmed all over again just at the sensation of being full.

Dirk’s words make his expression falter- because- he was, at some point, very very sure that he found Dirk and his body absolutely disgusting, but the thought keeps just filling him with hunger. He wants to feel Dirk fuck into him, use his nook to get off. He wants to feel Dirk cum inside him again- he  _ needs _ it.

Well, he has time to fret over that later. For now, he just nods and starts to grind his hips, rocking in short, sporadic motions that make him whine as his dick grinds up into his sensitive nook.

  
  


Eridan nods and whines softly, starting short little rocks of his hips that make his nook shift and squeeze around Dirk.

Dirk groans softly, watching Eridan, settling his hands down on Eridan's thighs, just touching, not guiding. The air between them feels so warm- but it's soft, fuzzy arousal, not the crystal-sharp desire of their previous fucks.

"So fucking pretty." He murmurs, and tilts his head up a touch. "Do whatever makes you feel good, kitten- why don't you come here and give me a kiss?"

  
  


Once Eridan’s hips start moving, he can’t even imagine stopping. It feels so nice to rock in Dirk’s lap and fuck himself, feeling his hands on him and knowing that he’s making both of them feel  _ good. _

Almost before Dirk’s done talking, Eridan leans forward and licks clumsily against his mouth, panting hot against his skin and petting his hands against Dirk’s shoulders, dizzy and drunk on sensation.

  
  


Eridan leans in to lick at his mouth and Dirk makes a pleased noise. He brings his hand up to cup the back of Eridan's head, angling his face to capture Eridan's mouth properly, parting his lips to let Eridan lick his way inside.

It feels good, the cool, strong muscle of Eridan's tongue in his mouth. Having this gorgeous troll on his lap feels like a fucking dream- and Eridan belongs to  _ Dirk _ .

There are so fucking many things Dirk wants to do to him. Dirk wants to see those pretty tears rolling down Eridan's face as Dirk fucks him into overstimulation, he wants to have Eridan in his bed in the mornings and just slip his dick right onto Eridan's nook as Eridan chirps sleepily.

He's still iffy on blowjobs, with those teeth, but- well, they'll figure it out.

"That's it, kitten." Dirk murmurs against Eridan's mouth as Eridan rocks on his dick. It feels nice- a lazy, relaxed pleasure that comes from getting to sit back and have someone else do the work. Watching  _ Eridan _ try to please him, trying to feel good.

  
  


Eridan tilts his head into Dirk's hands and kisses him deeper, purring loudly into his mouth, just letting himself enjoy the sensations as his hips start to take on a steadier rhythm. As much as he'd taken shameful, intense pleasure in having Dirk pin him down and trap him and pound his nook, being the one controlling their movements is sending a heady, addictive rush through him. He feels  _ powerful, _ and pretty, just like Dirk's telling him he is.

He shivers and croons as he finds a way to twist his hips that sends the head of his cock knocking up against something deep inside him, mouth going slack and open against Dirk's as clings to his shoulders. He drops his head again, forehead pressed against his collarbone, and lets out a shaky noise of arousal as the new angle of his face forces him to watch his nook sinking down on Dirk's cock over and over and over again. "Uhhn, uh- fuck-  _ Dirk- _ "

  
  


Eridan must hit his stride because he's rocking harder, finding a proper rhythm- and then he's moaning and dropping his head onto Dirk's shoulder. Dirk cups the back of Eridan's neck, holding him there as Eridan moans out Dirk's name.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Dirk murmurs. "Getting fucked? That pretty nook of yours is made to be filled, to get fucked open- and yours is made for  _ me _ . My dick, filling you up, fucking nice and hard into your sloppy, wet nook. You can move harder than that, kitten- really fuck yourself down on me, I know you want to."

  
  


Dirk's voice wraps around his brain and  _ squeezes, _ and Eridan can't help but continue to moan out Dirk's name over and over again as he moves his hips faster and faster. If it wasn't muffled by the fact that they're both mostly clothed, the sound of skin hitting skin would be filling the room- even as it is, his nook's so soaking wet that they can both hear loud, slick noises with every bounce of his hips.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he knows he's going to cum soon, but he doesn't even care- everything just feels so  _ good _ right now, and he doesn't want to think about anything that isn't the pleasure shorting out his brain. He starts mumbling against Dirk's shirt, face buried in the fabric, hands still gripping tightly at his shoulders. "Hhuh- Dirk, I wan'- I want you to cum in me, I  _ want _ it, wanna get filled up and messy, feels- feels so good-"

  
  


Dirk gives a low, pleased moan at Eridan's begging, at the bouncing of his pet troll as he fucks himself on his master's cock over and over. "You want my cum, kitten?" He breathes. "You've been  _ awfully _ good for me, I think that maybe I should give it to you."

He snaps his hips once up into Eridan, nice and hard, before going still again, a teasing bounce. "Gonna have to cum first, Eridan." Dirk purrs. "Cum on just my dick- no touching yourself, you're going to cum like a kitten should, mewling and slutty on it's owner's dick."

  
  


He'd been thinking about reaching between them to touch his bulge, but the thought flies out of his head as soon as Dirk tells him how he should cum. Eridan buries his face in Dirk's shirt, breathing through the fabric and shuddering with pleasure as his drool makes a small wet spot, unable to keep his mouth closed with how loudly and frequently he's moaning.

It doesn't take long. From the time Dirk's spend toying with him, he already knows it's relatively easy to make Eridan cum, but this time he's worked himself up into a frenzy. There's only a few more moments of him bouncing on Dirk's cock before he shouts and jerks his hips, bulge going stiff and cumming messily all over Dirk's stomach. Even then, he doesn't stop moving- there's a little less up-and-down motion, as his legs seem to have temporarily given out, but his hips are still ceaselessly grinding back and forth in his lap.

He's doing as he's told. He's being  _ good. _ He wants to be rewarded with the sensation of a thick human cock pumping him full of cum, a sensation he already feels completely addicted to.

  
  


Dirk tells Eridan to cum just on his dick and, like a perfect pet, Eridan  _ does _ . Panting and moaning into Dirk's shoulders, rolling and bouncing his hips, then going tight and spilling across Dirk's shirt. It's just as perfect as the last couple of times, Eridan's nook tight and sucking around him as the violet troll cums and spills his genmat across Dirk's front, whining and gasping.

He's still grinding on Dirk even as he cums, and Dirk cups his face, bringing it up to press a kiss to Eridan's mouth. "Good boy." He croons. "Looking so fucking pretty, so perfect- you want me to cum in your nook? Fill you up nice and good? You're the perfect pet, kitten, so pretty and delightful and lovely. I'll give you what you want."

He grinds up into Eridan, finding and matching his weak rhythm, pressing kisses across Eridan's face, along his neck, at the base of his fins- moaning lowly at the feeling of fucking this perfect,  _ perfect _ troll.

It doesn't take him long to reach his peak, with Eridan so tight around him, and he drops his hands to Eridan's thighs to hold him down as he grinds his dick up into Eridan and cums with a pleased groan.

  
  


Eridan is shuddering and moaning even louder as Dirk bucks up into him, overstimulated but still so, so hungry to be filled up and bred. Dirk’s still praising him, telling him he’s perfect, telling him how good he was, and even as he comes down from the aftershocks he finds his nook squeezing down hungrily.

Then, Dirk’s holding him down and grinding his hips up, and he can feel his cock pulsing as he’s filled up, just like he’d asked for. He was good, and he’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted.

He’s relaxed and boneless, melted against Dirk’s chest and purring up a storm, hips still rocking occasionally to send those slightly-too-much-sparks of goodfeelings to his brain. He lies there for what feels like hours but is realistically about thirty seconds, mind coming back in bits and pieces, before he slowly sits up and looks at Dirk.

His eyes are still glazed over, his expression totally blissed out- it’s different, like he’s starting to snap back into place, but he still looks so pliant and sweet.

Eridan licks his lips slowly as his fingers stroke up and down Dirk’s shoulders, before settling where they meet his neck. They curl around the back of his neck, his thumbs gently brushing his windpipe-

And then, abruptly, he starts to pant a little heavier as his hands tighten and squeeze hard around Dirk’s throat.

  
  


Eridan goes boneless and melts against Dirk, purring loudly, and the sound sinks into his bones, relaxing Dirk. It's perfect, having Eridan like this in his lap, relaxed and pretty, Dirk bringing his hand around to slowly run his fingers along Eridan's spine.

Eridan sits up and his expression is so hazy and blissed out that Dirk smiles a little.

"Hey kitten." He murmurs, enjoying the feeling of Eridan's hands drifting over his shoulders and then- It takes Dirk's brain a minute to catch up with the heaving of Eridan's chest, the way his expression is shifting, the clench of his hands around Dirk's neck, but his body remembers.

His hand shoots up to latch around Eridan's throat, thumb pressing right up against his delicate gills.

"Eridan." Dirk says softly, even as Eridan tries to choke him. "That's enough."

  
  


Eridan lets out a strangled gasp as Dirk’s hand closes around his throat as well, breath going ragged as he digs his fingers into sensitive gillslits, but the pressure around his neck doesn’t snap him out of it, doesn’t make him stop.

In fact, the frenzied look that’s starting to fill his eyes only gets brighter, and he lets out a strangled growl as he squeezes  _ hard, _ his claws digging into his skin even with their blunted tips. His mouth opens, the growl getting louder, and he snaps his teeth at Dirk’s face even as his arm holds him too far away to connect.

  
  


Shit, Eridan is probably going into a bloodlust. Figures. Finally get him to the point where he takes a little initiative and he takes  _ all _ of it.

"Dirk-" Hal starts as Eridan growls.

"I got this." Dirk says, the words distinctly strained as his neck is squeezed harder. He shoves up off the chair and uses his grip on Eridan's throat to slam him down to the ground, none-too-gently. "That's  _ enough _ , Eridan." He grits out.

  
  


Eridan's eyes widen as he's shoved out of the chair- partially because, until that moment, Dirk had still been inside him, and a violent shudder goes through his body at the sensation of him pulling out- but the crazed look on his face doesn't exactly fade. He just digs his claws in and hisses, legs kicking and teeth gnashing, getting more and more and more rage-filled..

And then, he seems to hit some sort of wall, and his expression falters. He still looks like he's in a bit of a blood frenzy, on the edge of a full-on rage, but his grip is started to loosen, his eyes growing hazy as his vision tunnels. He scrabbles at Dirk's throat a few more times, trying to keep choking him, before his hands falter and start to slide down his chest. "Hhgk-"

  
  


Dirk straddles Eridan's hips as they hit the floor, Eridan hissing and snapping, but Dirk just stares down at him as his head starts to protest the pressure on his neck veins, a heady beat in his skull, his hand still on Eridan's neck and squeezing lightly in return.

" _ Eridan. _ " He says, but Eridan's already faltering, his hand already going loose and letting go a bit, letting blood rush back in to Dirk's head. Dirk takes in a deep breath, but doesn't let go of Eridan's neck. His other hand comes up to snag one of Eridan's wrists, holding it loosely.

"You back with me, Eridan?" Dirk murmurs.

  
  


Eridan hisses again when Dirk grabs his hands, tries to pull them free again, but eventually he just goes slack under Dirk, his chest heaving violently.

When Dirk says his name, he looks up, some of the bloodhunger gone from his eyes, but he still looks... not all there. Drifting, hungry,  _ angry. _

He gives a halfhearted kick to Dirk’s flank, snarling and wiggling in place with a feral sort of frustration, before going limp once again and pressing his cheek to the cool tile floor in an attempt to avoid Dirk’s eyes.

  
  


Dirk waits until Eridan meets his eyes, barely reacting to the kick to his leg. Eridan eventually goes limp and looks away.

"That was very naughty of you." Dirk says softly. "I'm disappointed in you, kitten." He holds Eridan's hands firmly. "If you want to hurt or break something, you  _ tell me _ . Giving into your instincts is a no-go. Understand?"

  
  


Dirk calls him naughty, and he breaks out into another fit of gnashing his teeth and thrashing his limbs, but it honestly doesn’t take very long for him to just go still again, all out of breath and overwhelmed.

He keeps feeling himself just about to slip back into his rage, but Dirk is so omnipresent, holding his hands like a misbehaving animal and speaking so soft and firm. He feels like there’s two people grabbing a shoulder each and pulling as hard, as greedy as they can, and he’ll tear right down the middle far before either of them give up or win.

So, instead of nodding or hissing, Eridan tearfully glares at the tile and garbles out something along the lines of “Fuck off, you fuckin’ fucker”, head hurting like nothing he’s felt before.

  
  


Dirk clicks his tongue a little, disappointed by Eridan's response. He's being fussy and misbehaving- and Dirk  _ should _ just shock him, but he doesn't really  _ want _ to do that.

Hm. Maybe he should look more into what Hal said, about Eridan's instincts and not wanting to submit.

"Eridan, I am going to take you upstairs and you are going to stay in your room." Dirk says firmly. "We will deal with your punishment later when you've calmed down."

He holds both of Eridan's hands and gets up, pulling Eridan up to his feet, starting to pull him through the house by his wrists to his room upstairs.

  
  


Eridan lets out a weird little frustrated yapping noise when Dirk tsks at him, thrashing weakly, before growling under his breath once again when he’s dragged to his feet.

He’s not actively trying to maim Dirk anymore, thankfully, but he seems to have temporarily sacrificed common sense and emotional regulation to stay on the defense. There’s plenty of wordless snarling and whining as he’s dragged through the house, doing his best to be a pain to move as he digs his heels in and yanks his arms.

  
  


Oh, Eridan growls and grumbles and tries to fight but Dirk is just as fucking stubborn so he basically  _ hauls _ Eridan through the house and up the stairs and shoves him into his room.

"Hal, let me know when Eridan's calmed down." Dirk says, and then he shuts the door and locks Eridan in.

  
  


Of course, Eridan whirls around and charges at Dirk as soon as he's released, but he's much too slow, and smacks directly into his shut bedroom door like a whole ass Loony Tune. He scrabbles at the wood for a few seconds, giving it a solid kick and yelping loudly when it ends up hurting more than he'd expected, and resorts to impatiently stalking around the room like a bored tiger.

Eventually, though, his steps start to slow down, and he eventually flops onto his back on his bed, scowling at the ceiling. Little angry growls still force themselves from his chest every once and a while, and-

suddenly, he realizes that Dirk's cum is still leaking out of him, pooling on the bedspread. He howls, eyes flashing orange as he makes the biggest racket he can manage, thrashing around like a child having a tantrum- even as his bulge curls slickly out against his thigh.

  
  


Dirk steps back from the door and listens to the  _ thunk _ of Eridan hitting the wood and just folds his arms and listens to Eridan's furious noises.

Well, now. That's something that needs to get handled. Dirk goes into his own room so that he can be close enough to hear if Eridan  _ really _ needs him.

"Hal, shock him if he tries to break anything. Start at one and move up. Don't go higher than four." Dirk says absent-mindedly.

"Understood."

"Let me know when he's calmed down." With that, Dirk drops down to lie on his bed and do some reading on his phone about violet rages. He did plenty of research before, but it's worth reminding himself.

Eridan gives a howl of rage and Dirk looks up. "Hal?"

"I would hypothesize that what Eridan is currently doing could be considered a 'temper tantrum'." Hal offers dryly.

"Alright. Do you think there's any merit to what we talked about earlier?" Dirk asks.

"We talked of a lot of things earlier."

"C'mon, Hal, don't be evasive. The dominance fight idea."

Hal is silent, but his circle is still spinning. Dirk very much gets an air of judgment from his AI and he does not appreciate the sass, thank you very much.

"The idea has some merit." Hal finally, begrudgingly says. "You have an unusual violet who has explicitly stated that he cannot submit due to ingrained feelings for the defeated Empire. Defeating him in a fair fight may assist him in submitting."

"Was that so hard?" Dirk says, then shakes his head. "I guess I know what we're doing tomorrow, then."

He yawns.

"Dirk, if you nap now you will wreck your sleep schedule."

"I'm not going to nap." Dirk protests, but gets up out of bed because, well, Hal's right. "Just- lemme know when he's calmed down."

He goes to his office to do some work until either Eridan calms down or it's bedtime. Whichever comes first.

  
  


Unfortunately, it's a solid while before Eridan even starts to calm down. Over the next hour or so, he goes from throwing a full-on tantrum in his bed to snarling and threatening the ceiling to pacing angrily around his room again, and, finally, when he can't do that anymore, sitting on the floor and scheming while staring daggers at his locked bedroom door. There's an attempt made to rip the doorknob off, but Hal shocks him, of course, and he doesn't try again after that.

Eventually, though, he just gets  _ tired. _ He'd never quite realized how exhausting being angry is. Stripping off his shirt and flopping on the bed again, now completely naked, he cuddles against one of the pillows and chews on the pillowcase, still looking pissed as anything. His bulge has retreated, by now, but he still feels all hot and weird, and the idea of putting on more of the clothes Dirk bought for him just makes it worse.

He shoots one last venomous look at Hal's speaker before looking up at the ceiling again and letting out a long, frustrated sigh, hugging the pillow tighter. This is something much worse than anger, now. This is  _ boredom. _

  
  


Dirk is largely ignorant to most of Eridan's actions, but Hal gets the front row seats.

He gets to watch Eridan pace and snarl and growl and yes, Hal does shock him the one time Eridan tries to pull the doorknob off, but he has no regrets about the action. Eridan is not allowed to destroy things.

Hal categorizes Eridan's actions as part of a rage, but it seems overly childish for one. In his banks, Hal creates a subdivision of Rage called Tantrum and starts taking notes.

When it seems that Eridan's calmed down somewhat, Hal gives him another ten minutes to stew in his boredom to make sure he's not going to launch into another fit, before reaching out to Dirk.

"Eridan's calmed down." Hal reports, and Dirk nods a little in response.

"Alright." He says, and gets to his feet, picking up the book he had retrieved from downstairs. He goes to knock on Eridan's door.

"Hey, Eridan." He says. "Can I come in? I brought a peace offering."

  
  


Eridan jerks to awareness when he hears the knock on his door, flailing a little and accidentally sliding off the edge of the bed. Dirk hears a muffled thump, a scrabbling noise, and Eridan growling something that might be "Gimme a fuckin' second!"

A moment later, he's pulled on some clean clothes (his dirty ones are starting to form a pile in the corner) and stalks his way over to the door, mouth set into a thin line. "...What do you have?"

  
  


Dirk smiles a little at the thump, but waits obediently. He's gotta respect Eridan's space, that's important. Eridan can't feel  _ completely _ helpless.

"I brought up  _ Dhalgren _ ." He offers, turning the book over in his hands. "Do you feel up to talking about what happened, or would you prefer to be left alone until tomorrow morning?"

  
  


Oh.

..Now that he thinks about it, he would really like his book back. Well, technically, Dirk's book, but- fuck that. It's  _ his _ book now. He lets his forehead thunk lightly against the door, scowling at his feet. He doesn't want to talk to Dirk right now, he's still.. angry, and confused, and frustrated, and he isn't entirely sure what he's angry at.

But he's also bored.

And he's starting to get lonely.

Maybe he'll just let Dirk in for long enough to take the book.

"..You can come in if you want." More footsteps as Eridan pads over to the bed and flops down onto the mattress in the dramatic way that's quickly becoming a habit, looking less murderous and more just.. kind of sour.

  
  


Eridan gives him permission to come in so Dirk unlocks the door and steps inside, into Eridan's room. He's a little surprised that the room isn't trashed, but he supposes Hal wouldn't have let Eridan  _ really _ wreck anything.

He holds the book up in one hand as a  _ 'see, I really did bring it' _ before stepping over and setting it down lightly on Eridan's nightstand, within his arm's reach, and then puts  _ himself _ within arm's reach being fuck it, why not. He sits down on the edge of the bed by Eridan's knees.

"Hey, Eridan." Dirk says. "How're you feeling?"

  
  


Eridan’s eyes suspiciously follow Dirk as he approaches, lingering on the book in his hands, before his fins half-flare defensively as he sits down on the bed.

He doesn’t make a move to lunge, though. Instead, he just sits there for a second (still looking decidedly sour) before rolling onto his side. He lays on the bed, facing away from Dirk- but even then, he can practically feel the pout coming off of him in waves.

“..Fuckin’ shitty.”

The thing is, Dirk makes it so hard to hate him. He keeps on being so accommodating and calm at all the wrong moments, despite the fact that the little Dualscar in his head insists that this man is holding him prisoner and must be slaughtered for the insult. He can’t even follow through with a proper murder attempt without feeling all.. weird about it

Dirk waits a moment to see if Eridan will say anything further.

....is this what having a kid feels like? Dirk gets a sudden moment of vertigo as he thinks about the fact that he's being a semi-parent right now.

That's fucking weird. He's going to think about that later.

"How come?" He gently prompts, idly bouncing his knee.

  
  


When Dirk tries to prompt him to say more, all he can do for a second is growl into the mattress, snapping his teeth at nothing in particular. Eventually, though, he manages more, shoulders hunched in frustration.

"I don't- I don't know what I want to do, you know? Part of me wants to be good, because that's how I get good things, and I like that, but part of me is, like- screamin' all the time about how being good for you is the worst thing I could ever possibly do, it'd be a betrayal of my core values, all that. I don't know. I don't even really know what my core values  _ are. _ But I can't turn it off!"

  
  


Dirk takes a moment to dissect that. Eridan  _ likes _ being good, that's good. That means that Eridan is receptive to the things that Dirk is doing. But it sounds like his instincts- or ingrained instincts, from Dualscar, rather- are giving him trouble.

"That sounds like it fucking sucks." Dirk says. He wants to pat Eridan's hip soothingly but he's not about to do it unless he Knows that Eridan won't try and take his hand off. "Has anything made that part of you  _ stop _ screaming?"

  
  
  


Eridan scoots away from Dirk a little, grumbling under his breath for a second- he's already frustrated, but it makes his mind twist into even more pretzels trying to figure out how any of this actually.. works.

"I guess, yeah, kinda? I mean. After you.. spanked me, I didn't feel it at all. I just felt all floaty and stupid and good, and I really wanted to be good, more than anythin' else. But as soon as I woke up and things started workin' again, I got twice as mad, at you and myself. It felt like I was gettin' yanked one way and then the other, and it freaked me the hell out."

  
  


Dirk hums a little in understanding. Sounds like more merit to his 'needing to fight' idea. "Alright. I guess here's  _ another _ question for you, Eridan."

He shifts, bringing one leg up on the bed so that he can look at Eridan straight-on instead of turning sideways to do it.

"What do you like more? That feeling of being good or that feeling of following that voice?"

  
  


He turns over and squints at Dirk when he sits up to ask him, but the question makes his expression go soft and thoughtful.

“I don’t know. It’s.. hard. Being good feels really good, but being good usually means going  _ against _ what those instincts say, and that’s almost always so bad that it outweighs feeling good.”

As always, talking about this at all instead of just  _ acting _ on it is making him feel frustrated and twisted-up, but Dirk’s presence is weirdly.. calming.

  
  


Dirk hums a little in understanding, turning Eridan's words over in his mind. Eridan didn't say he  _ preferred _ following his instincts, instead he said they make it  _ hard to be good _ .

"Well, that definitely sounds like one hell of a conundrum." Dirk says. "What if we could get that voice to shut up? Would you like that?"

  
  


He sighs, squinting at Dirk from his place on the bed and tightly crossing his arms. "..I feel like shit for sayin' this, but yeah, it would be nice for it to go away. I guess. But- ugh! It's fuckin' hard to think about, alright! I don't like talkin' about it like this, tryin' to actually think about this shit just makes it more confusin'. Either say what you're thinkin' or leave me alone."

  
  


"Alright, alright."

Sorry, Hal. It's for a good reason, though.

"I was speaking with Hal and he mentioned something that you two had spoken of. Your need for a  _ superior _ ." Dirk glances to Hal, who's light is slowly pulsing. Oooh, yeah, he's annoyed. Dirk looks back to Eridan. "But you can't see me as your superior since I'm a  _ human _ and have been forced to go down without a fight."

Dirk decides that Eridan probably isn't going to swipe at him. He reaches out and puts a hand on Eridan's knee, giving a gentle squeeze.

"So, tomorrow, let's settle this." Dirk says lightly. "You'll get your fight, just the two of us, out in the yard, and I'll  _ make _ your instincts accept me as your superior."

  
  


Eridan sits up, looking like he’s about to start yelling at Hal for telling Dirk about that, but then he keeps talking, and Eridan’s eyes widen.

His expression is hard to read, for a second, but on the confirmation that he’ll be allowed to  _ fight _ Dirk, his face lights up.

“Really?”

Eridan’s fucking  _ floored. _ This is great. Dirk invited this, so the part of him that likes him doesn’t feel so fucking  _ guilty, _ and the other half is already scheming about what he’ll do when he wins. He’s not sure how that’ll work. Maybe  _ he’ll _ be the superior, then. Wow, that’s an intoxicating thought.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll- absolutely, yes. I won’t let you down. I mean, uh. I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass. Yeah.”

Flawless.

  
  


Dirk grins a little at Eridan's outright enthusiasm at the idea of getting to fight him.

It's  _ adorable _ . Eridan looks like a little kitten gearing up to pounce.

So he just squeezes Eridan's knee lightly and says, "we'll do it tomorrow morning after breakfast. Do you want to stay in here tonight or do you want to come with me?"

"I won't be locking your door again if you choose to stay." Dirk adds, after a moment.

  
  


Eridan finds himself involuntarily chirping at the squeeze to his leg, shooting a mild glare at him, like its his fault he made the noise.

He hesitates for a second, expression shifting, before turning his nose up and getting up from the bed to pick up his book. “I’ll stay in here, thanks.”

  
  


Dirk nods a little. "Alright." He says, and gets to his feet. "Sleep well, Eridan." He gives Eridan a little smile and leaves, shutting the door quietly behind himself, but there's no click of a lock this time.

Dirk goes back to his office to do more work, and winces slightly at the sight of Hal's pulsing light. Slow and irritated.

"Dirk." Hal's tone is short and robotic.

"Sorry, Hal." Dirk says, dropping into his chair. "I know I shouldn't have broke your confidence, but I think this is what Eridan needs."

There's a minute where Hal's light just pulses, before it starts to spin slowly, instead. Thinking.

"I am inclined to agree with you and that is infuriating." Hal says, his tone smoothing out a bit more. Dirk almost sighs in relief- that means that Hal probably won't fuck with anything. "I am still angry with you, but I understand why you broke my confidence to tell Eridan that I broke his confidence."

"As long as you understand, that's alright." Dirk says, sitting back in his chair. "You don't have to forgive me right away, so don't feel like you gotta."

"Very well." Hal says.

Dirk dives back into his work and manages to get some decent progress on a couple of product reports he needs to type up, so there's that at least. Then he retires to bed in anticipation of the fight- sorry,  _ dominance struggle _ \- that will happen tomorrow.

He's confident he'll win, but- he shouldn't get cocky. Eridan will most certainly have some tricks up his sleeve.

  
  


Eridan paces around his room for the rest of the evening, reading his book a few pages at a time before getting up to stalk in a circle once again.

He looks at Hal’s speaker a few times, frowning, looking like he’s about to chew him out for telling on him, but he always seems to rethink it before he actually says anything.

Before long, the excitement of the day has him tired, and he’s climbing back into bed- after a set of vigorous push-ups, of course. He needs to be ready if he wants to win this fight. Which he’s definitely going to do.

  
  


The next morning, Dirk gets up and stretches a bit, before going to knock lightly on Eridan's door.

"Eridan, if you're up, I'm making breakfast." Dirk says, and then goes downstairs to scrounge up something to eat.

Hmm. Protein- bacon and eggs it is. He starts cooking, while trying to think about the best way to do the upcoming fight.

  
  


Eridan stretches dramatically in his bed, chirping wordlessly at Dirk, before his voice cuts quiet when he remembers what's happening today. He scrambles out of bed and pulls some clothes on, whatever looks like it'll be the easiest to fight in- it ends up being a nice, knee-length circle skirt and a light tank top, as well as some panties, because that's the only underwear he can seem to find.

Grumbling about his owner- (not owner, not owner) being a pervert, he stomps down the stairs, itching to get eat breakfast and get ready. His chosen outfit has the unintended effect of making him look deeply, deeply cute, despite the fierce expression on his face. Or maybe because of it.

  
  


Dirk looks up as Eridan comes down the stairs, dressed in an outfit that makes him look  _ absolutely _ adorable. Dirk refrains from commenting, though.

"Good morning." He says, turning the bacon over and pouring the eggs into the pan cook. "How are you feeling?"

  
  


Dirk is as infuriatingly nice as he always is, and Eridan mumbles through a good morning and a shrug before rifling through the fridge in search of some juice.

He retrieves a bottle of orange and turns around, making direct eye contact as starts to down it straight from the bottle.

  
  


Dirk scrambles the eggs as they cook and looks up in time to see Eridan... drinking right out of bottle.

Hm. Alright?

"Cups are in there." Dirk says, glancing at the cupboard and then looking down at the eggs again and flipping them. "Could you get a couple of plates out?"

  
  


Eridan chokes a little on his orange juice, face feeling hot with embarrassment as he shoves the bottle back in the fridge and tries to wipe off what's spilled on his face. Well, that's fine. All his attempts to intimidate Dirk so far, even including  _ straight up trying to murder him, _ have failed spectacularly. He must just have a really good poker face, it couldn't possibly be that he's not intimidating.

He'll just have to win based solely on combat merit. It's true that he's.. never actually been in a fight before, besides the occasional tussles he got into with other trolls back at the breeders, but Dualscar rambled at him a ton about battle strategy, so he's sure he can apply that. He sits down, still scowling, and waits for Dirk to finish making breakfast.

  
  


Dirk watches Eridan put the bottle back into the fridge and... not get plates. Well, alright. Dirk supposes he can't fault him for not wanting to show any kind of submission right before a dominance match.

Not that it matters overly much.

He gets plates and divides the foot, bringing it over to the table and they eat, a growing tension,  _ anticipation _ in the air between them. They don't really talk.

After the table is cleared and any dishes are taken care of, Dirk retrieves the key for Eridan's collar and then they go outside to the back yard.

"No tricks to win." Dirks says, and unlocks it, pulling it away and dropping it on the patio table with the remote. "Just you and me, with our hands."

He steps out on to the grass and takes a breath, rolling his shoulders back. "Ready, Eridan?" He asks softly.

  
  


Eridan eats- not as fast as he had in the days before, but deliberately. He still looks adorable, obviously, but there’s a set to his shoulders that Dirk’s only seen in him when he was first pulled out of his box and woken up.

His eyes widen when Dirk takes out the key to his collar- he’d been wanting to ask about that, but some doubtful little part of him had expected Dirk to keep it on as a failsafe if Eridan managed to win. The look he gives him as he drops it on the table has marginally more respect in it then it had before.

Eridan steps down onto the grass as well and takes his place a few feet away, eyes sharp and glinting, every muscle in his body ready to tense. He bounces on the balls of his feet a few time, takes a deep breath, and nods.

“I’m ready.”

This time, he’s going to  _ fight. _ Dirk will beat him fairly, or not at all.

  
  


Dirk watches Eridan bounce a couple of times, then assert his readiness. He nods a little.

"Alright." He says. "Begin."


	6. Chapter 6

_ “Alright. Begin.” _

And with that, Dirk doesn't move at all. Ready to let Eridan come at him.

  
  


Eridan winds up like a spring and pauses for a second, eyes raking over Dirk, before he suddenly lunges forward in a blur. He can't flashstep, but he still moves fucking  _ fast, _ and he gets right up in Dirk's face, lashing out with one arm-

And.. smacking him hard, right on the funny bone, with the flat of his hand, before turning to dart away again. Well. That's something.

  
  


Eridan lunges forwards and Dirk raises his hands in defense, curled into loose fists-

Only for Eridan to lay a hard smack right on his funny bone. The discomfort of it jolts up Dirk's arm and he furrows his brow a bit, taking a reflexive step back as he grabs and massages it.

"The fuck?" He manages, bemused at Eridan's choice of attack.

  
  


Eridan stares at him for a second, equally bemused. He hadn’t expected that to win him the fight instantly, he’s not  _ stupid, _ but the idea of having a ‘cluster of nerves’ smacked sounded.. painful, at least.

He whips around to stare accusingly at Hal’s patio speaker. “You bitch, you told me that would work!”

  
  


Dirk has to bend forwards and put his hands on his knees as Eridan throws an accusation at Hal because he's struggling so very hard not to burst into laugher.

God. Good ol' Hal. He'll have to buy him another server as a reward. Hal's speaker lights up.

"I said no such thing." He says, sounding mildly amused. "I merely informed you on the presence of the ulnar nerve. I did not say that striking it would incapacitate humans. It is hardly my fault that you did not ask for specifics."

  
  


Eridan only looks more outraged when Dirk starts trying not to laugh at him, glaring at Hal like it’ll make his server spontaneously combust, before rounding back on Dirk. Getting embarrassed in the first five seconds of the fight isn’t.. ideal, but he can still swing this.

With no other words but a low growl, he darts back towards Dirk- this time, aiming a sharp jab at his gut.

  
  


Eridan rounds on him and  _ whoops _ here we go, it's real this time- Dirk brings his arm circling down and out as he steps to the side, knocking Eridan's punch away. He turns and, in a swift motion, roundhouses the back of Eridan's knees, swiping his legs out from under him.

He doesn't do anything more, though, stepping back. He wants to beat Eridan thoroughly-  _ completely _ .

  
  


Eridan lets out a snarl when his punch is deflected before yelping when his legs are suddenly kicked out from under him- he hits the ground with a heavy thump, but he’s much more alert then the last few times he’s tried to pull shit, and he’s scrambling back to his feet almost immediately.

This time, he doesn’t pause. He launches himself right back at Dirk, low and fast, faking another jab to his stomach only to swing at his face instead.

  
  


Eridan hits the ground and basically bounces right back up, which,  _ okay _ , yeah, let's go-

He comes in for a low hit, and Dirk moves to block-

His ears ring as his jaw throbs from the blow. A fake out. He grins. Eridan  _ can _ fight- that's  _ fun _ .

Dirk's head is reeling from the blow, but he finds it within him to give as good as he got- sinking his fist into Eridan's stomach.

  
  


Eridan lets out a little bark of laughter as his fist connects, eyes blazing, before he chokes on his breath and goes stumbling back out of his range at the punch to his stomach, winded. He keeps his guard up, though, and Dirk can see the way his gills are rippling in agitation from here, his fins in full threat-display position.

He cracks his neck, squints, and rushes forward with both hands swinging.

  
  


Dirk spares a half moment to think about how pretty Eridan looks in the fervor of battle, his expression sharp and focused, fins flared. This is what trolls used to be- warriors.

It's very sexy.

But Eridan's rushing at him- so Dirk needs to keep his head in the game. With both fists coming at him, he slides off to the side and dodges past Eridan's outstretched arms, slamming an elbow across his shoulders and sending him stumbling forwards, followed by another kick to his legs.

"I'll put you down as many times as I need to." Dirk says softly, stepping back. "You're  _ mine _ , Eridan."

  
  


Dirk’s elbow goes digging into his shoulder and he sends him to the ground again with a kick, but this time, he’s ready for it. He hits the ground in a crouch and shoots back up this time, snarling and rounding on him with fangs fully bared.

Dirk’s soft, even words make him falter and blink, hesitating for just a second, but then he’s pouncing again in a tackle.  _ ”I don’t belong to anyone.” _

  
  


Dirk steps  _ into _ the tackle, leading with a shoulder that slams right into Eridan's chest. The contact sends a painful jolt through his arm, but he's grabbing at Eridan and pulling them both down to the ground, grappling Eridan to try and pin him down.

"You're  _ mine. _ " Dirk growls back.

  
  


Eridan sees the shoulder coming at him, but there’s no way for him to change course, so he just leans into it- but the impact knocks the air from his lungs harder then he expected. His knees go weak as they both tumble to the ground, scrabbling and thrashing in his grip.

He goes still for a split second as he’s pinned and Dirk rumbles down at him, eyes large and wild, before his lips pull back over his teeth like he’s about to reply in a hiss- but instead, he suddenly lunges forward in the small amount of space he has, butting his head against Dirk’s with a slightly sickening thump.

  
  


Eridan goes still as he's pinned, eyes wide and shocked and Dirk knows this is the way through to him- but then Eridan is slamming their faces together and pain  _ explodes _ , what a  _ fucker _ , that shit  _ hurts _ -

Dirk is forced to reel back for a moment, but then he's grabbing at Eridan, hand finding his throat and squeezing, pressing Eridan down to the grass.

"You're.  _ Mine. _ " Dirk repeats, putting as much of a command into the tone as he can. Eridan is  _ his _ . His body needs to know it, his mind needs to know it, his  _ soul _ needs to know it.

  
  


Eridan’s wriggling around like a motherfucker, trying to force his way out of Dirk’s grip before he recovers from the headbutt, but then there’s a hand around his neck again, pressing him down against the grass.

He tries. He certainly, certainly tries. Eridan scrabbles at Dirk’s chest through his shirt, lets out strangled growls and hisses, kicks at whatever he can reach, but as Dirk speaks to him and as his lungs start to burn, his movements gradually slow.

Then, he goes still- but not limp. He’s still coiled as a tense as a spring, mind blank but for the rush of battle, but there’s something in his eyes Dirk’s never seen there before. A kind of fragility. Right now, if Dirk pushes him hard enough, the right way, he won’t bend, he’ll  _ shatter. _

And then, Dirk can put him back together again.

  
  


Eridan goes still underneath him, tense- but there's a  _ look _ in his eyes. Something soft. Something  _ scared _ . The look of someone faced with something they can't overcome- and  _ terrified _ of it.

Dirk knows he has Eridan, like this.

All the scratches and kicks are a dull background throb. Nothing else matters but Eridan, here, underneath him.

"Don't you want to be  _ good _ , Eridan?" Dirk murmurs, not looking away from him for a moment. "I know you want to. This is where you belong. Can't you feel it?"

He loosens his grip for just a moment, just to let Eridan draw in a breath, but then he's squeezing right back down again.

"You  _ crave _ submission. A superior. A  _ master _ ." Dirk purrs. "This is what you're  _ meant _ for, Eridan." His other hand presses down over Eridan's chest, over his heart. "You're  _ mine _ . This," he pushes a little against Eridan's chest, "is  _ mine _ . Every inch of you belongs to me- because I  _ own _ you."

  
  


Eridan breathes in so fast that he chokes on it when Dirk releases his hand, and then he’s back under again, and- this is the strongest that torn feeling has been, so far. He’s so overstimulated, so helpless, and every word Dirk says is sinking into him like a depth charge.

He lets out a barely-audible little noise when Dirk pushes down on his chest, uselessly trying to gasp, fins going from their forward-thrusted threat position to folded back against his head.

He lost the fight. He won’t be getting out of this pin. The proper thing to do now is to

Submit.

To the winner.

When Eridan’s vision starts to tunnel, he finally gives, and goes completely limp under him- but this wasn’t the kind of response Dirk had scene before, when he was too overwhelmed to keep caring. This time, it’s a conscious action. His fins fold.. down, sort of, not back but forward and down, and Dirk’s never seen him signal like that before, but he’d know what it means.

Submission.

  
  


Eridan is wide-eyed, trembling ever so slightly under his hand as Dirk looks down at him. Then, slowly, his fins fold down. He goes limp.

He's  _ submitting. _

"Good boy." Dirk purrs. "That's right- you know this, don't you? You know you're mine."

He leans in and claims Eridan's mouth. His hand is still around Eridan's neck, but it's relaxing, letting him breathe.

Dirk just kisses him softly.

"You're so pretty, kitten." He murmurs against Eridan's mouth. "So perfect and good for me. Isn't that right?" He lets go of Eridan's neck and presses his mouth to Eridan's gills, a soft kiss.

His hands run down Eridan's body, finding Eridan's skirt and tugging the fabric up.

  
  


Eridan lets out a strangled little chirrup when Dirk speaks again, eyes flicking nervously- because he knows he’s safe, under Dirk, Dirk is  _ safe, _ but he’s never done this exact thing before, really. The troll part of him, older then the Empire, knows that being on his back after losing a fight means his guts spilled.

But then, he’s being allowed to breathe, and Dirk is  _ kissing _ him. He’s too overstimulated to respond much besides a little chirp, lying still like a doll for him to do what he wishes with.

And it feels  _ good. _ All good. Completely.

Eridan shivers when he’s called pretty, nodding a little, letting out little huffs of breath against Dirk’s lips, before he chokes out a high-pitched squeal when he presses his mouth to his gills. His breath speeds as he feels his skirt being hiked up, and his legs shift open, his hands gingerly rising to rest, splayed, against Dirk’s chest.

  
  


Eridan is making such pretty noises underneath him- nervous and high- and Dirk wants to hear all of them, now that Eridan's giving them completely willingly on his own.

"So cute." He murmurs, pleased with Eridan's little movements, pressing another kiss to Eridan's gills. "You want to get that pretty bulge out for me, kitten?" His hand slides over the front of Eridan's panties, grinding firmly. "I want to see you be turned into a sobbing, writhing  _ mess _ under your owner."

  
  


Eridan moans, loud and open- a little scratchy from being choked, but still not even trying to quiet himself. Dirk’s hand grinding against him through his panties feels so fucking  _ nice, _ and he bucks his hips up into the feeling with a croon.

He’s pretty. He  _ is. _ He wants to be even prettier, just for his owner, wants to do just what he tells him. His head tips back, digging his horns into the grass, as his bulge starts to unsheathe into his panties.

  
  


Dirk gives a pleased hum at feeling it unsheathe. He pulls back enough to look down Eridan's body, loving the way that Eridan's bulge tents his panties, loving seeing the way the muscle fills the fabric and then is forced to peek up over the edge.

"You're so pretty all over, kitten." Dirk purrs, slowly dragging two fingers up the fabric over Eridan's bulge, until he reaches the hem- pulling it back and snapping it lightly against his bulge. "You're such a pretty color, such a pretty size- and you open up for me on command."

He leans in and drops another kiss to Eridan's gills, then slides his tongue slowly up along one of the slits. Not pressing it- but just running over it lightly, gently massaging over Eridan's bulge.

  
  


Eridan can’t help squirming a little at the feeling of his bulge being all pent up in the soft fabric, his slick already dyeing the plain gray fabric a deep purple. The feeling of Dirk’s hand rubbing over it through the fabric is so  _ nice, _ and he whines when the hem pulls away and frees him a little bit- before yelping when it snaps back into place, his whole bulge twitching.

Dirk’s mouth pressing back into place against Eridan’s gills makes him gasp and shift his hips up needily, because- his gills are very sensitive, and also  _ not for that, _ but Dirk’s tonguing at them, kissing them like his mouth, and a wave of heat overtakes his body.

Eridan’s hands, still braced on Dirk’s chest, tighten a little and rake down his chest. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, and growling, and  _ desperate. _ “Hhhh- hh, mm-  _ Dirk- _ ”

  
  


Eridan calls his name and Dirk  _ grins _ .

Eridan's his.

"I've got you." Dirk murmurs. He finds his belt and undoes it, tugging his cock out and giving it a couple of strokes to get it the rest of the way there. "You want your master's cock? Let me hear you, kitten, I want to hear you ask for it."

He grabs Eridan's legs and folds them up against his chest, pressing their hips together. His cock slides over Eridan's panties- and if it weren't for the fabric, it would be rubbing right over Eridan's nook, the heat of his dick bleeding through the fabric.

  
  


Eridan hears his belt jingle and tenses up again, already so much more turned on at that sound, before letting out an overwhelmed little whimper when his legs are pressed up to mirror the position he'd been in when Dirk took his virginity. It leaves him all exposed and helpless, and he's still a little nervous, but he shakes all over with need when he feels Dirk's cock rubbing back and forth over him, hot and hard and still so alien.

It takes him a second, but he eventually mumbles out his plea, face burning and hips jerking up against his over and over again. "Please. I want you to fuck me, I want your cock, please-" His voice cuts off, and he swallows hard, voice caught for a second. "...Master."

  
  


Eridan asks for his dick like a  _ good _ boy so, because Dirk is so nice, he'll give it to him.

"Good boy." Dirk breathes, tugs Eridan's panties aside, and sinks his dick into Eridan's nook. He groans, pushing in all the way to the hilt in Eridan's cool, sucking nook.

"Fuck, there we go, Eridan, so fucking perfect." Dirk moans. "This is where you're meant to be, under me- you know it, don't you? There no other reason this would feel so fucking good."

  
  


Eridan’s breath speeds in anticipation, claws clutching at the grass, before letting out a loud, high-pitched keen as Dirk shoves into him, his eyes going glazed-over and intoxicated. His nook is squeezing down over and over again, in waves, like he’s trying to  _ milk _ him, and even before he starts to thrust he’s squirming and moaning and rocking his hips just from the sensation of being pinned down and full.

Dirk’s right. This is  _ perfect. _ He doesn’t know why he ever tried to resist.

  
  


"So  _ fucking _ perfect." Dirk breathes, voice thick with pleasure. Eridan's nook is squeezing and pulling him in, Eridan wiggling and trying to rock and get more. "You're made for this, Eridan- you're made to take my cock and be  _ fucked _ ."

He wastes no time- he pulls back and fucks back in, rough and hard, setting a pace that he knows his muscles will be complaining about later, but fuck if he cares right now. He's got a pretty violet troll  _ submitting _ to him that needs to get dicked down right the fuck now.

"What a perfect nook, so tight and wet- goddamn, kitten, this is what you're good for, for being fucked and taking human cock, you're made to be filled up and stuffed full, a pretty little toy for me to use, to fuck whenever I want, to play with and enjoy-"

Dirk's hips are slapping hard into Eridan, his hot length pistoning into Eridan at a brutal pace.

"-and now you know it, don't you?" Dirk breathes. "You know there was no point in fighting.  _ This _ is where you belong."

  
  


Eridan bucks his hips and lets out a quiet, throaty moan as Dirk slowly pulls out only to slam back in, eyes wide and bulge thrashing as he starts to ferociously rut him into the lawn. It’s not long before-

Well.

Dirk had commanded his submission, and he’d been broken in, in a sense, but not quite  _ broken. _ He’s still relatively coherent, for all that his begging and whining, but after a few seconds of feeling Dirk holding him down and just fucking  _ pounding _ his nook, growling down at him about his proper place, feeling his balls hit his ass with every thrust, Dirk is able to look right into his eyes as all intelligent thought not concerning Dirk’s cock crunches under the onslaught like so much fine china.

The quiet, breathy noises he’s been making stutter for a second before they come back as  _ loud _ moans, high and urgent and slutty, his legs coming up to wrap around Dirk’s hips.

“Hhfff- hhhah, yes, yesssyesyes, I wan’ it so bad, Dirk, Dirk, breed me, use my slutty nook, need to be ruined, Master,  _ please, _ please, PLEASE-“

  
  


Eridan  _ loses it _ and it's fucking  _ beautiful _ . He's moaning and wailing and he's wrapping his legs around Dirk and trying to keep him close-  _ this _ is perfect, this is what Dirk wants to see- his pet reduced to a sobbing, wailing,  _ needy _ mess.

"Oh, I'll  _ ruin _ you." Dirk promises, his hand coming up to sink into Eridan's hair, tugging his head back and putting his vulnerable neck on display. "I'll ruin you so much that the only one who'll have you is  _ me _ \- and I'll never throw you away,  _ never _ ." He grins down at Eridan, slamming his cock in and grinding it, rocking firm and hard into his pet's noom. "You're  _ mine _ , kitten, and I'll never let you go. You'll be a pretty little toy for me forever- always spreading those gorgeous legs for me, giving me your nook whenever I want it- and I'll always take care of you, make sure you're never left  _ wanting _ ."

  
  


Eridan reacts to having his hair pulled like Dirk's hand is on his bulge instead, all moaning and squirming and trilling as loud as he can, craning his head back even further to expose the curve of his throat to his master. He looks ruined already, honestly- not just from being fucked, too. He just chirps and trills and keens louder with every word, and the promise that he'll never be thrown away makes him choke out a noise halfway between a whimper and a sob as his bulge wraps around the base of Dirk's cock and smears along his thighs.

It's the most perfect thing he could have imagined. Dirk can take him, and hide him away, and he'll be able to feel like this  _ all the time. _

Eridan's eyes are still wide and hazy and stupid with pleasure, mouth hanging open and nook still vice-tight around his cock. He bucks his hips again and whines like an animal, blunt claws dragging against his back, and- at first it seems like he's going in for a kiss, but he messily licks his cheek instead, panting heavy enough to send cool little puffs of air across his face. "Yes, please, please, please, don't leave me, I love you, I love my master!"

  
  


"Never,  _ never _ , kitten." Dirk promises between rough grinds of his hips. "You're mine, my kitten- I'm never letting you go."

He fists his hand  _ tight _ in Eridan's hair, holding his head in place as Dirk presses kisses along Eridan's fins, so delicate and beautiful.

"You want to cum on your masters dick?" Dirk growls. "Cum just like this, with me stuffing you full? Filling that pretty, slutty nook of yours up? I bet you can do it. Cum for me, Eridan- cum on your master's thick cock."

  
  


Eridan had already been getting there, blissed beyond all reason at Dirk's closeness and promises to never abandon him layered over the feeling of being so roughly used, all while his mind's too broken to even begin to process all of this. He pants and drools, open-mouthed, and wiggles his fins in delight as Dirk kisses over them, noises ramping up and up and louder and louder-

And he's too fuck-dumb to actually realize that he's getting close, but almost as soon as Dirk tells him to, he's letting out a hiccuping sob and jolting like he's being shocked, face hot and eyes tearing up, as he cums messily on his master's dick. Deep purple genemat pumps out of his shivering bulge, running down both their thighs, and he squeezes down so hard that it's almost painful to keep thrusting.

And, with that, there's no denying it. Dirk has him, body and soul.

  
  


Eridan's making such lovely, happy noises, Eridan's panting and moaning and squirming and then when Dirk tells him to cum he  _ does _ \- he sobs and goes  _ so _ tight around Dirk and there's genmat flooding over the both of them.

Dirk feels his heart melt and end up somewhere around the area of his gut. Eridan's so tight around him that it makes his dick  _ ache _ when he tries to move, so he just grinds in deep and rides it out.

"I've got you, kitten." Dirk breathes, letting go of Eridan's hair to pet over it instead. "You're so good. Good boy."

  
  


Eridan’s slack in his arms as he comes down from his orgasm, still letting out choppy, stilted noises, still blissed out beyond belief. He sucks in a breath and hugs Dirk right around the middle at the confirmation that he’s still here, Dirk’s got him, he’s safe, he’s  _ good. _

He doesn’t have an anxious bone in his body, now. All he wants to do is curl up and get as close as Dirk as possible- if he could, he would climb inside him and nestle in his ribcage, safe and warm and perfect.

Eridan incoherently mumbles something along those lines into Dirk’s neck as he presses his face there, breathing him in, before his breaths start to slow. At first it just seems like he’s calming down, but it becomes apparent that he’s just... fallen asleep.

With his legs still locked like steel around Dirk’s hips.

They really have to work on his endurance.

  
  


Eridan shudders and slowly comes down as Dirk pets his hair, clinging to his master. Dirk hums softly, pleased with Eridan's response, and as his nook slowly relaxes he starts a gentle, rocking grind again.

There's no response from Eridan, that's strange- When Dirk pulls back to look down at him, his face is relaxed, eyes closed.

.....is he  _ asleep? _

Dirk can't stop the laugh, leaning in and pressing his mouth to Eridan's cheek.

"Oh, Eridan." He says. "You're too precious."

He's still buried in Eridan's nook, so he resumes his movements, this time taking a more long, languid pace as he uses Eridan's body to get off. If Eridan wakes up, great, if not- well, Dirk doesn't exactly  _ need _ him to be away to cum into him, right?

"So goddamn precious." Dirk sighs. "I'm so fucking lucky, god."

He sinks his cock in to the hilt and leans in, capturing Eridan's mouth and pressing him into the ground with his weight as he cums, as he fills Eridan's nook with his hot, sticky cum.

"Good boy." Dirk murmurs, and is faced with the task of working Eridan's legs free from around his waist.

No small feat, mind you, given how tightly they're locked together.

He manages it, though, and he gathers Eridan up in his arms to bring him inside. His pet needs a nap, clearly, and Dirk has some ideas now that Eridan's been broken in.

So he lays Eridan out on the couch with a blanket draped over him, retrieves his work tablet from his workshop, and sits down in a chair to wait for Eridan to wake up.

  
  


Eridan stays slack and quiet under him as Dirk finishes, still letting out the occasional whimper or groan at the stimulation even in his sleep, and when he kisses him deeply and pins him down to cum inside his nook, he can feel another gush of cool genemat as his bulge lazily thrashes, toes curling and hips unconsciously jolting.

Eventually, Dirk's able to peel him off of himself despite how hard he's clinging and get him settled. He must really be exhausted, because he doesn't make a peep when he's lain down on the couch, and stays firmly unconscious for almost half an hour. Finally, he lets out a quiet sigh and turns over under the blanket, whining under his breath when the first thing he feels is Dirk's absence.

Eyes blinking open, he slowly sits up, chirping a little at how sore and sticky he feels, the dull pain of new bruises throbbing where Dirk had landed hits during their fight. But.. he doesn't feel bad. He doesn't feel guilty, he doesn't hate himself for losing, he doesn't feel a rush of panic.

He feels  _ good, _ in a giddy, vulnerable sort of way. He presses his thighs together and shivers violently as he feels Dirk's cum leaking from his nook, face burning, before turning to his owner and.. wordlessly holding his arms out for a hug, eyes pleading.

  
  


Eridan eventually shifts and starts waking up and Dirk looks up, watching his movements. This is the test, the real proof to see if it worked. If Eridan's truly submitted.

Eridan sits up with a little chirp, making Dirk's heart skip, and then he's holding his arms out to Dirk, silently asking for a hug.

Dirk smiles. He sets his tablet aside and gets to his feet, crossing the room to join Eridan on the couch and give him a hug.

"Feeling good?" He asks, squeezing Eridan in his arms, one hand sliding up to thread into Eridan's hair.

  
  


Eridan lets out a long sigh when Dirk comes over and hugs him, his whole body relaxing, seeming almost- relieved. Like he hadn't been sure he'd get it. He nods, pressing his face into Dirk's chest and breathing in with a happy sigh.

"Yeah. I.. I feel really good." He's quiet for a second, squeezing him tightly, before he squishes himself tighter against him, voice quiet and muffled.

"Thank you, Dirk."

  
  


Dirk nods a little and presses a kiss to Eridan's head. "You're welcome." He says. "Tell me if you start feeling those kinds of things in the future, alright? I want to make sure you're feeling good all the time."

He contemplates an idea for a moment, running his fingers through Eridan's hair.

"You submitted so perfectly for me earlier." He says. "I think you deserve a reward for being so good. You want to lie back against the arm of the couch for me?"

  
  


He makes a little noise of agreement and snuggles in closer despite how sweaty and sticky he still feels, chirruping quietly in response to the kiss, before he feels his heart start to pound at the mention of a reward.

He pulls back and looks at Dirk for a moment, nearly asking what it will be, but- instead, he leans back in obedient silence, lying still for Dirk to do with as he pleases with a lingering flush across his cheeks.

  
  


Eridan flushes and leans back against the couch, so Dirk grins and says "good boy." He slips backwards to be between Eridan's legs, pressing them open. Eridan's panties are  _ sopping _ wet with genmat from earlier, so he tugs them down and works them off of Eridan's legs, dropping them on the floor to be dealt with later.

Dirk settles his hands on Eridan's thighs, pushes them open, and leans in. He presses his mouth to Eridan's bulge slit, the space his bulge would emerge from when turned on, and slowly slides his tongue into it, his eyes flicking up to meet Eridans'. He presses his tongue into the strange, almost-flexible space- and his tongue finds the tip of Eridan's bulge, along with the rest of his coiled bulge, waiting just inside for him like a present.

  
  


Eridan is delighted to find that being labeled a Good Boy has just as intense an effect on him as before- although it’s wholly positive, this time. He bites his lip and grins as Dirk settles down between his thighs, legs coming open easily, but when he expects Dirk to lean down and mouth at his nook, he feels a tongue pushing into his sheath inside.

His eyes go wide, and he lets out a high-pitched, strangled noise that was probably supposed to be something along the lines of “Hey, that’s not supposed to go there,” but after he gets over his initial shock- it does feel good. Really weird, and with an exciting tinge of  _ wrongness, _ but his nook is already dripping again, his bulge squirming and trying to push out to tangle with Dirk’s tongue.

He meets his owner’s eyes for a moment before pressing his hands over his face and panting heavily, thighs shaking. “Whh- hhhhuh. That feels...”

  
  


Dirk huffs softly in amusement, flicking his tongue against the uncurling tip of Eridan's bulge- and lapping nice and slow into the space, making Eridan feel the heat of his tongue, pressing him open in this strange, new manner.

Dirk idly wonders about other things he could do with this space, give Eridan such delicious torment- he'll need to do some research, look at some suggestions, but for now- he wants to watch Eridan squirm as his bulge starts trying to slip free but Dirk just presses it right back down with his tongue again.

  
  


Eridan’s hands hover for moment before he reaches down and gently slots them into Dirk’s hair, petting through it as his chest heaves with overstimulated pleasure.

Dirk presses his tongue in again, and he  _ whines. _ His bulge is swollen and active and ready to come out, but Dirk just keeps pushing it down, making him feel uncomfortably full- but it feels like it’s pressing on him from the inside, a weird kind of pleasure he’s legitimately never felt before.

Eridan spreads his legs wider, desperate for- he doesn’t know, exactly, more of that or less of that or something else or for him to never stop, letting out a growling whimper in the back of his throat as his belly and thighs twitch.

  
  


Eridan's hands move over his hair and Dirk hums a little in response. The touch feels nice- and Eridan isn't trying to grab or direct him, so he'll allow it.

It's fun, corralling Eridan's bulge and not letting it slip out. It keeps trying to press up into his mouth, but he keeps batting it right on down.

He wonders if he can make Eridan cum like this, let just his tip out and then drink down the slurry as it spills from the tip. He doesn't know, but he wants to find out.

So he keeps licking into that place as Eridan makes desperate noises under him, and then, all at once, shoves three fingers into Eridan's  _ dripping _ nook.

  
  


Eridan’s just getting to a place where his thoughts are starting to make sense, running his fingers through Dirk’s hair and squirming his hips into a more comfortable tilt-

And then, Dirk shoves his fingers into him. Not even going from one to three gradually, just- all at once, making him shriek and dig his fingers into the couch.

It’s not as sudden as it could have been- he’s still wet and open from Dirk fucking him into submission, and the thought of that makes him flush even brighter- but the added fullness of his body makes the pressure in his sheath even tighter.

“Hhh-“ He spreads his legs as wide as they’ll go, hooking one knee over the back of the couch, eyes squeezed nightly shut and hands half-covering his mouth, voice coming out wavery and whining. “Uhhh-ughn, fuck, why is this a  _ reward! _ ”

  
  


Dirk grins at Eridan's shocked shriek, twisting and rocking his fingers into Eridan.

"Would you like me to  _ stop? _ " He coos as he pulls back, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss over his bulge slit.

He doesn't wait for Eridan's answer, because this time he slides his tongue into Eridan's slit and, instead of pushing his bulge back in, lets Eridan bulge slide up and out and into his mouth, sucking on the tip as it's finally let out of his slit.

Eridan's bulge is tapered and thin at the tip and wiggles strangely as Dirk licks over it and takes it into his mouth- but he slides one hand over Eridan's slit and forms a ring with his fingers- making it so Eridan can't get more than a couple of inches of his bulge out as Dirk sucks on and licks at the tip.

  
  


Eridan can’t decide if he wants to stop, is the thing. He  _ hates _ this, but it feels so good at the same time, a desperate noise ripped out of his throat as Dirk kisses his sheath.

Then, finally,  _ finally, _ he lets his bulge out. Eridan’s eyes go unfocused as his thighs tense, his bulge rushing out-

Before it stops after a few inches, held in place by Dirk’s curled fingers. Eridan’s eyes cross and he whines,  _ loud _ and high-pitched in the back of his throat, nook shivering around his fingers. “Hhhn- Diii _ irk- _ ‘m gonna- I need to-“

  
  


Eridan  _ whines _ and it's so high and pretty and it makes Dirk's chest go warm and pleased because those are the noises he likes to hear. He likes hearing Eridan, loud and desperate, and  _ all Dirk's. _

"You're going to?" He murmurs, with his mouth full of the tip of Eridan's bulge. He slips off and gives Eridan a cocky grin. "Tell me what you're going to do, Eridan. Could it be that you're going to cum like this, with your bulge trapped?"

He grinds his fingers up along Eridan's inner walls, along his ridge that he knows makes Eridan feel  _ good _ , sucking the tip of his bulge back into his mouth. "Go ahead, kitten." He coos around the tentacle. "You can cum if you want to."

  
  


Eridan just growls and squirms and makes begging noises for a while, because that’s really, really all he can do. He wants to cum, he can feel it, and with how overstimulated he gets he really should have cum about a minute ago, but- his bulge isn’t out, there’s no  _ room! _

He lets out an agonized whimper, hissing tremulously that he  _ wants _ to cum, he just- he just-

Eridan bites out a harsh noise and cums, not in one flood of genemat but in multiple weak spurts, more of the cool slurry leaking out between jets. It takes longer then it normally would, and he has a faintly comedic series of o-faces for Dirk to take in over the twenty or so seconds that his extended, slightly ruined orgasm lasts.

Eventually, he goes limp against the couch, his bulgetip still dripping and his eyes completely glazed over.

  
  


Eridan whines and whimpers and thrashes and Dirk isn't actually sure that Eridan is going to be able to do it- but then thick spurts of genmat are flooding across his tongue and he swallows each one down, watching Eridan's expression twist in desperate, distressed pleasure.

But eventually Eridan goes limp and Dirk lets the tip of his bulge slide free from his mouth.

"Good boy." Dirk breathes. "Well done, Eridan. That was so beautiful of you." He wipes his hand clean and slides up the couch to gently pet over Eridan's hair, leaning in to give him a kiss. "What a good kitten." He murmurs. "Cumming for your master, even though it was weird."

He kisses Eridan again, simple and sweet.

  
  


Eridan only starts to come back to himself when Dirk leans in to give him a kiss, his face scrunching a little at the taste of his own material. He starts up purring nice and loud at the praise, though, feeling pleasant and boneless from his orgasm even if the strange quality of it is leaving his entire crotch with a faint buzzing sensation.

But he was  _ good. _ That’s so much more important. He murmurs a thanks- it was a reward, after all, he should be thankful- and hugs Dirk tight to his chest again, taking every opportunity to cling to him like a barnacle.

  
  


Dirk knows that his pretty little troll is a slut for praise, so he keeps it up as Eridan clings to him. "You're such a perfect kitten." He murmurs, pressing another kiss to Eridan's cheek.

"So good for me, Eridan, so good. That was so perfect, just what I wanted to see." He presses another kiss to Eridan's cheek. "Let's go lie down for a bit, I bet you're feeling pretty wrung out." Dirk slides both arms under Eridan and lifts him up, carrying him upstairs and to Dirk's bedroom.

He settles them down into his bed, Dirk on his back with Eridan lying next to him, and gently pets over Eridan's hair. "Don't you feel better now?" He asks. "Knowing where you belong? You'll get to feel like this forever. You'll get to feel good and  _ be _ good."

  
  


Eridan is only now realizing what a slut he truly is for being praised, himself, but as Dirk tells him how perfect he is, he suddenly realizes this is the happiest he’s ever been in his life.

He’d had this same floaty, drunk feeling before, after Dirk had really tired him out, but it had always come with a sense of disconnection from himself, from his feelings. Now, it’s just..  _ good. _ Perfect.

He doesn’t tense or make any sort of confused noise when Dirk scoops him up, utterly trusting. Next thing he knows, he’s curled up in Dirk’s bed again with his hair being pet, and he can’t help but purr as loud as he physically can. “Mhm. It’s.. really good. It feels  _ right, _ to have you. To belong to you.”

He opens his eyes and looks up at him, blinking sleepily, and reaches up to pet Dirk’s hair as well.

Distantly, the thought occurs to him that his master would look really, really good in fuchsia.

  
  


Dirk smiles softly at the touch. "Good." He says. "You're mine, Eridan. I'm never letting you go."

He drops a kiss into Eridan's hair.

"You're my precious pet." He says. "That'll never change."

And it doesn't.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Dirk/Hal are played by [@LPSunnyBunny](http://www.twitter.com/LPSunnyBunny)!


End file.
